Of Disguise Kits and Miniguns
by GothicCheshire
Summary: "I don't think he can do it."  "Now, boy, I wouldn't be too sure, that Spook, well, he can be pretty damn tricky..." Now with alternate ending.
1. Chapter 1

_Few things to note before you start reading, respawn is used in this story, as is their inability to fire at members of their own team, as my own personal belief leads to thinking that if they could shoot each other they'd spend more time doing that than shooting at the other team. Also: this will be gen. This was really just a silly little idea I had due to the consistent calls for Spy's to be able to disguise themselves as Sentries and Dispensers. I say...why stop there? Yep, expect insanity. Also, as it has recently been requested, the ending of this story is actually very, very dark. I had not known it would be so dark when I first began posting, so I was unable to put a warning, or tag it with anything other than what I had thought it was going to be, humor. So yes, the fifth chapter has it's own warning, and now it has one up here. Mood-whiplash.  
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...

"I bet he can't do it." The voice came from a young man, an apple as red as his team shirt clasped in one athletic-tape wrapped hand that he was munching on contentedly. He sat backwards on a chair next to another older man in an orange hard hat, watching in boredom as the Engineer continued tweaking whatever new invention he was working on.

"Now, boy, I wouldn't be too sure, that Spook…well, he can be pretty damn tricky." An orange and gray gloved hand wielded a wrench with expert precision, tightening the bolts clinically and efficiently.

"So? There's a few rules, right? One of them is you can't turn into inanimate objects." Scout gestured with his apple, biting into it pointedly.

"I ain't so sure that's a rule. It might be more like a…limitation. You know, this entire war is so much like a game anyway; it's possible that his equipment might have enforced guidelines on it. You know, to keep the playing field level. If he had the means, he could, he just doesn't have the means." Engineer replaced the wrench gently, peering through his goggles at the inner workings one last time before closing it up.

"Psh, I don't know about you man, but I could totally take him out even if he could turn into anything and everything." He scratched under the brown ball cap on his head, adjusting the earpiece overtop of it, eyes rolling as he rebuffed him.

"Sure you could in this proposed hypothetical situation. He'd be on your team so you could see through whatever odd object he was trying to disguise himself as." His right gloved hand removed his backwards orange helmet, scratching at his bald head with his other hand as he considered the device in front of him and sighed, placing his helmet next to him on the workbench.

"You're way too literal, man."

Engineer smiled at that and nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, you might actually be right there. Get back now, I'm gonna see if this thing works."

"What's it do anyway?" Scout asked, backing away as he had been instructed, the Engineer replacing his helmet, flipping it the right way around just in case. A moment's hesitation led to him ushering the Scout back to stand behind a wooden barrier with him. The younger man stood behind him immediately after he realized why precisely they were standing there. "Holy shit, it's not gonna explode is it?"

"It's supposed to be a prototype for a new sentry." He deliberately answered the first question, and held up a remote for it, the Scout watching with wide eyes. After a beat or two and with a wide eerie smile, the Engineer finished, "It shouldn't explode…but I've been wrong before. Now let's see here…"

He fiddled with the remote for a moment and Scout flinched back as the 'sentry' moved. It seemed to be a basic level three sentry, rockets, miniguns, the usual, only it was apparently supposed to walk. The realization made the Scout's eyes widen as he peered out around the Engineers shoulder, watching as it slowly stood up tentatively, wobbling shakily on reversed metallic legs that were attached to the base through a series of connections that baffled him. The hydraulics hissed as it shifted its balance, leaning slightly forward, the ball joint that stood for its hip rolled, swinging the heavy leg forward, three 'toes' spreading out like a birds', taking the weight of the machine.

They leaned towards it, watching with bated breath as it swung another step forward. Finally the Engineer grinned widely and swiveled the stick, the two of them watching as it moved it's 'arms' to aim at the far wall and opened fire, taking a few steps as it did so. Scout let out a whoop at the destruction it caused, pock marking the metal walls with bullet holes, taking step after step forward until it was practically jogging. The grins on their faces were identical, the Engineer letting out a triumphant cry at seeing his baby performing at standards he couldn't have expected. It was then that the worst happened.

Just as the Engineer attempted to turn it around, sparks began flying from one of the legs, the miniguns jamming violently. There was a sound of grinding gears and twisting metal, the RED sentry convulsing horribly, Engie's mouth falling open in horror. Finally, the sentry exploded, the Scout shoving the Engineer's head down behind the barrier, metal debris ballooning outwards in a blast of fire and smoke, a single shard impaling the wall just where the Engineer's head had been. Finally, silence.

The Scout took a few deep breaths, patting himself down with his hands to make certain everything was in one piece, finally letting out a sigh of relief when he realized everything was there. He let out a shaky laugh, "Man, that was close, huh? You alright, Engie? …Engie?"

The shorter man was frowning, goggles fixed on the black and smoking scorch mark on the floor. Next moment the goggles and hardhat were ripped off in a violent display of anger that led to them sailing across the room and the Engineer practically hopping up and down in his fury as he spat out various curses. Scout backed up hurriedly, running past the barrier that had metal shards sticking out of it from the failed sentry. A moment later and the RED Sniper rushed in, left gloved hand holding his akubra to his head tightly, blue eyes behind yellow tinted aviators examining everything quickly, finally focusing on the Engineer.

"What the hell happened?" Sniper asked, watching as Engineer gave a quiet growl, and stomped over to where he had thrown his hardhat and goggles.

"Engie was working on something. New sentry thing, right? Only it could walk! It was awesome! …Until it blew up that is…" Scout coughed, the both of them wincing at a further irritated grumble from the Engineer.

"That's a crying shame, that is, mate… You say it could walk even?" Sniper asked finally, crossing his arms.

"Yep, walked all the way to the end of the room there, only it couldn't turn around…sort of got stuck walking forward." Scout shrugged. "It was cool, until it decided to try and kill us…"

Engineer had walked back to his desk, flopping onto his wooden chair and tossing his collected hardhat and goggles onto the desk carelessly, scattering blueprints and drafting tools. The two of them behind him winced. The Engineer rarely ever got that upset, but when he did it was usually best to get him out of it as quickly as possible. It was with this in mind that the Scout turned to the Sniper in a mock-careless manner, the Australian immediately regarding him with a suspicious air.

"Hey, Snipes, I was wondering, Engie and I were talking earlier and we got to thinking, what would it be like do you think if Spy could, oh, I don't know, pretend to be a Dispenser?" Scout tucked his hands in his brown uniform pants' pockets, blue eyes regarding Sniper in something resembling boredom.

"I think he'd have to look out for Truckies that were trying to upgrade him… I'd imagine a wrench to the top of the head would be no fun, mate." The semi-amused grunt from the Engineer staring morosely at his blueprints was enough prompting to continue the conversation. "Now, if the man could work on turning into something that was less likely to get mistreated, then I think you might be onto something."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, but Engie was the one who came up with the oddest idea…"

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Sniper raised an eyebrow at him, tilting his head to the side.

"He thought that if the Spy could actually make himself look like Sasha he might actually be onto something."

The immediate burst of laughter was echoed by the Scout himself, the two of them practically howling in mirth. "Oh, God, Sasha? I'm pretty certain we're talking about the other team's Sasha, right? Ha, that's…wow, that's priceless, mate."

"I know, right? As if Spy could ever get close enough to that gun to do it." Scout cackled.

"Not to mention, how exactly would he be wielded? Wouldn't the Heavy notice that Sasha's apparently shooting blanks?" The double entendre struck them both with a vengeance, leading to near hysterical laughter, the Engineer finally standing up, walking over to them with a frown on his face, but a slight glint of humor in his visible blue eyes.

"Now that's enough you two, I know the Spy's an odd son of a gun, but that's no reason to go insulting him, especially behind his back."

"Yeah, you never know when he could be watching!" Scout chimed in, the three of them immediately cracking up.

"No, you don't." The sudden French accented voice sent them all jumping back in surprise, shouts of alarm leaving protesting lips. The Spy's expression was smug, visible even under his maroon balaclava.

"Bloody Wanker, what the hell do you get off of sneaking up on people like that?" Sniper spat out with a snarl.

"Endless amusement," Spy answered with a smile. "Besides, in this case, you owe me. The Engineer almost shot me."

"What?" The Texan blinked, looking at the Frenchman standing before him with confusion.

"I was standing right there." He indicated the first bullet hole in the wall, leading to the Engineer narrowing his eyes.

"Wait a moment, for how long?"

"I often come here. Aside from your machines it is usually the quietest spot in the base." He shrugged indifferently. "And before you ask, no, I did not sap your sentry. I will admit to being rather pleased it did not work as planned, if only for the fact that I do not have to worry about being the one to take out the other team's sentry should they steal our intel. But to answer your original question, for this particular instance, long enough to wonder why le lapin was eating an apple. Is that not too healthy for you?"

"Hey, shut up, man, I totally eat healthy stuff…sometimes. But, haven't you heard? The Medic's doing examinations soon!" The statement led to involuntary shudders, their expressions shifting into something like disgust. "I'm willing to do anything I can…"

"In that case I agree with your present course of action." Spy nodded at him once.

"Would you also agree that you can't turn into Sasha believably?" Scout's expression slid towards challenging, the Spy raising an eyebrow at him silently.

"Why would I wish to turn into something that would lead to the Fat Man's hands being all over me?"

The snort of laughter that followed was echoed by the Sniper, the Engineer grinning. "Oh yeah, I totally forgot that aspect of it. So I guess you can't do it then, huh?" Scout asked, rubbing under his nose with a grin.

"On the contrary, mon ami, I most certainly could do it, I merely have no wish to." The Spy brushed at his red pinstriped suit, unsuccessfully trying to remove the dust from it. It was the one downside to being in the Engineer's garage.

"Oh yeah?" Sniper asked, raising his own eyebrow. "And I suppose you could back up your statement with actual fact, right?"

"You do not trust my word?" The skeptical glances this gave him led to the Spy rolling his eyes. "Yes, I could back it up with fact."

"I don't believe you."

"You do not have to, bushman, but the fact remains, I could make the Heavy believe I was Sasha." The Spy crossed his own arms across his chest, looking up at the taller man with his blue eyes spitting fire.

"And I'm the bloody Queen of England," Sniper spat.

"If you were the Queen someone would have paid me to assassinate you. Someone as ugly as you has no right to be Queen of anything."

The Engineer and the Scout watched with raised eyebrows as the two continued their debate, continuing to get more insulting as time wore on, mouths pulled into frowns as they squared off with each other. The Spy's gloved finger jabbed into the Sniper's vest as he finished a point he was making, leading to the Sniper shoving him back.

"Hey, easy boys, it's just a what if conversation, no need to get violent." Engineer stepped between them, hands raised peacefully.

"Fine, apologies, bushman." He spat the words out, half sarcasm, half honest contrite, that was canceled out by the glare he gave.

"Why did you get that fired up over it anyway, Wanker, it's not like I insulted your mother…" Sniper asked, ignoring him.

"If you had, you'd be dead." Sniper rolled his eyes at the threat, even as the Spy began toying with his butterfly knife lazily. When they continued to look at him with a raised eyebrow and disbelief written across their faces he rolled his own eyes, flicking his butterfly knife closed before replacing it. "If you must know, I had to pretend to be a man's wife for three days once. If I can honestly make him believe that his wife of three years had suddenly developed a hormone problem, I am reasonably certain I can impersonate a gun, no matter how cared for it may be." The three of them burst out laughing.

"Oh, God, three days, mate? How was that?"

"Horrible. The woman had absolutely no sense of fashion. Everything was either floral or tie-dye." He shuddered, leading to yet another round of laughter. "In all seriousness…it was horrible. Especially as I had been paid to murder his wife…I did not have time to remove her body fully from the premises. It was not a particularly relaxing environment."

"Now hold on, you had to kill some man's wife? Why?" Engineer asked in surprise.

"Now that I cannot tell you, I am a spy, remember?" His mouth pulled into a grin, blue eyes flashing death as he looked into the Engineer's goggles.

"I still don't think you can do it." Scout put in finally after a beat, leading to the Spy rolling his eyes.

"Can't do what, lad?" The slightly slurred Scottish accented voice asked. They turned to look at the Demoman, single brown eye flicking from one to the other as he leaned against the wall drunkenly.

"Pretend to be Sasha and have the Heavy try and wield him," Scout answered, shooting a smug look towards the Spy.

"Now, hold on, you said nothing of wielding, as in used in an actual match?" Spy asked with a blink.

"Well of course you'd need to be wielded, you'd be a gun, right, Spook? What else would he do with you? Kiss you?" Scout jabbed him in the shoulder, blinking as a thought came to him, accompanied by the Spy's raised eyebrow and disgusted expression. "Actually, this is Sasha and Heavy we're talking about, he really would, wouldn't he? And yeah, an actual match…maybe after this weekend's through you can back your big talk up, right?"

"The Spy as Sasha? Now I've heard everything…" Demoman laughed, hand scratching at the black beanie on his head casually. "Would you do it, Spook?"

"Do I look like I can shoot bullets out from my fingertips to you?" Spy asked, his arms crossed.

"Well, no, that's another job for the Heavy, right?"

Spy sighed. "Mes amis, I would, really I would, however, my equipment does not enable me to turn into inanimate objects, even at the best of times."

"Could you fix it to actually do so?" Engineer asked, scratching at his chin pensively.

"Laborer, even if you could, I would not be able to let you attempt. The equipment is for a Spy's eyes only. Je suis désolé, but I have no wish to be terminated." He frowned at that, shrugging.

"That is a shame; I believe I would like to see this as well, Herr Spy… This base is so boring, so little actually happens in it; it would be interesting to see something actually happen for once." They jolted, turning to the Medic who was standing next to the Demoman, arms folded across his long medical grade lab coat. His blue eyes peered through his round spectacles piercingly, his mouth pulled into a frown. Scout let out a quiet sound of fear before rushing to grab his apple, biting into it almost desperately. The Medic rolled his eyes.

"Monsieur, as much as it might be interesting to see if I could truly trick the Heavy in such a way, I am not allowed to toy with my equipment. You are also right, teufort is incredibly boring. But I am not here for your amusement," he hissed.

"We wouldn't be making you into some sort of trick pony; we'd just be seeing how good you were at your job, right?" Engineer blinked as something came to him, "Now hold on, you didn't say you weren't _allowed_ to. What's stopping you? It's your equipment, right?" Engineer asked, the Spy turning to regard him with something like fear flashing in his eyes.

"Yes, but do you know who manufactures it?" Spy asked.

"Well, sure, owner of Mann Co, Saxt-"

"Don't say his name!" The Spy reacted like lightning, one second the Sniper had been answering a question, next second the Spy's hand was tightly pressed against his mouth, blue eyes wide in unmistakable fright. He was pushed off immediately.

"What the hell, Spook? What's your problem?" Sniper spat out, his general look of confusion copied.

"You must never mention the disguise kit and the owner of that company in the same dialogue." Spy looked around hesitantly, staring at all the windows, even the ones that had been blown out by shrapnel. Although it was considered common knowledge that if it wasn't dangerous, the man wasn't interested.

"Why?"

"A colleague of mine, also a Spy, once made that mistake. Only he was _complaining_ about it. There was a gathering of Spies, you see, discussing intel, that sort of thing. Next thing we knew, that…man had fallen from the ceiling, ripped the Spy's heart out with his bare hands, and shoved it down his throat, telling him where precisely he could stuff his complaints as he did so." The immediate burst of laughter that followed was agreed to with a small chuckle from the Spy. "Although it is quite funny in retrospect, it was also a nightmare; I had blood all over my suit. I also have no desire to have my own heart suffer the same fate. He does not like Spies. I am not sure if it is because we are French or…" He shrugged carelessly, leaving the statement open.

"So if you jury-rig it you might get in serious trouble, alright, makes sense, mate, but still…what if you asked permission first?"

"Yes, that is a good question, Herr Sniper. What if you were able to present it in such a way to make it seem as though you were…trying to upgrade it, and were very willing to give him the results once you found if it could work or not?" The German asked, raising a single black eyebrow at him.

"Aye, that might be a good idea, lad." The Scottish Demo affirmed, nodding his head, sucking down on his bottle of Scrumpy he held in his hand as he did so.

"Yeah, come on, man, I got to see this!" Scout prodded, the rest of them nodding their heads, agreeing vigorously.

"But…"

"Oh come on, you already said you could do it, why don't you put your money where your mouth is, chucklenuts? I'm so _bored_…" Scout whined. "Hell, I'll even promise not to annoy you for a week!"

The Spy looked around at them all, eyes focused and mouth in a straight line, feeling slightly trapped. He never spent much time with this many of his colleagues, let alone was the center of attention. He usually made it a habit to avoid this type of conversation. Finally, he sighed. "Alright. But I am not asking. I've jury-rigged it before. I can certainly do it again." The immediate whoop of joy from the Scout was accentuated by various other calls of excitement, a few of them even patting him on the back. "The only thing I ask is if something goes wrong I need for you to watch my back, d'accord?"

"You got it, partner." Engineer nodded, giving him a thumbs up and a smile. "You need any of my equipment, help yourself."

"Merci." The Spy nodded his head and frowned. "Monsieur Medic, où est l'Heavy?"

"The Heavy is currently preparing for his examination. The Scout is next."

"What? But I'm eating an apple! You can't examine me; I've got your kryptonite!" He waved the apple core around in front of him, the Medic raising an eyebrow as he snapped his red rubber gloves with a small smile.

"Ah, but I am not a doctor, I am a _Medic_. Come with me, fräulein, before I make your examination even more painful than it already will be."

Scout whimpered and fled, down the hall towards the Medical Bay, the German following behind sedately, the Spy to his right.

"Why are you interested in seeing the Heavy, Herr Spy?"

"I need to examine Sasha. I feel it would be better to ask his permission first."

Medic blinked, looked the Spy in the eye, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck, kamerad, may he not beat you too harshly." Whatever nervousness the Spy had felt before had now compounded.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ladies and gents, have another update, remember, odd stuff doing odd things that are unlikely to actually work, but to hell with it, I'm doing it anyway. Oh, and because I forgot earlier: I own nothing, Team Fortress characters and settings are all owned by Valve, I just dabble. _

...

The Spy waited patiently for the Heavy's examination to finish, sitting in the little waiting area outside of the Medic's med bay along with the Scout, who was busy chewing his nails. He sat with his legs and arms crossed, his mind working furiously as he debated how he could approach the Heavy about his minigun. His brown Italian leather shoe tapped the floor habitually as he puffed on his white cigarette, mouth in a thin line around it, the smoke coming from his nostrils. As soon as the Scout noticed this he stopped, blinking at the Spy as the Frenchman finally noticed the blue eyes staring at him in awed confusion. "What?"

"You part dragon or something? Because that is really cool, man…"

Spy just frowned at him, taking the finally spent cigarette and grinding it out on the ashtray beside him. Another cancer-stick soon took its place and the Spy was back to smoking. Finally the door opened and the Spy stood up, walking towards the Heavy who was carrying his precious minigun. The Spy was given a new reason to view both of them with more than the usual trepidation. The large man stood taller than him and several pounds heavier than him, two bandoliers filled with custom bullets strapped across his chest over a brown vest that nearly covered his RED team shirt. His brown boots stomped across the ground until he stood directly in front of the Spy, placing the minigun on the ground in front of him.

"Medic says you wish to ask me something." The slow, Russian accented voice spoke calmly, an eyebrow rising.

"Oui…" The Spy hesitated for a moment, and then finally sighed. The next words out of his mouth startled all three of them, the Medic halting in his ushering of Scout into the examination room. The reason being, he was speaking Russian. _"Heavy, I was wondering if you would do me a favor?"_

"_You speak fluent Russian?" _The Heavy's voice was surprised, the words ringing off of his tongue quicker and cleaner than in English.

"_Yes, I apologize for not doing so earlier, it has merely been a habit of mine to speak in the language most of my colleagues use, in this case, English." _The Spy shrugged. _"I do apologize if I manage to butcher your language. It has been a while since I last spoke it."_

"_You are doing very well so far. Now, what is this favor you wish to ask of me? You seem very nervous about it." _Heavy raised an eyebrow, his expression dark, and the Spy was given one more reason to remember that no matter how soft, and how stupid he usually seemed to be, the Heavy really was neither.

"…_Likely for good reason. Did the Medic tell you what we were discussing?" _

"_No, he merely stated that you had a question for me, and that was it." _He shrugged.

"_You are aware of how I can make myself appear as another person?" _Spy started quietly, mouth opening before his brain truly decided what words it wished to use, instinct leading his choices, his natural charm pouring out of every word. The Heavy did not seem impressed.

"_Yes…" _

"_We were discussing what other things I might be able to make myself appear as… The problem is, most things in this base are consistently abused. Dispensers, teleporters and sentries are hit with wrenches, other things are caught in the crossfire. There was one thing that we all agreed was handled the best." _He examined his gloved fingers carelessly, presenting as indifferent a front as he could.

"_What would that be?"_

Spy took a breath, backing up a step and answering clearly, _"Sasha." _

"_What do you want to do with my gun?" _Heavy was immediately on the defensive, looming over the shorter man, blue eyes narrowed, and expression furious.

"_Please, Heavy, relax, listen to me very closely, I promise, the only thing I need to do is to run a few tests. Some of the information I need you will likely be able to simply tell me, but I do need to examine Sasha. I am going to attempt to trick the BLU team's Heavy." _

"_How precisely do you plan to test her, will you touch her?"_ Heavy took a step closer to him, looking directly into his eyes, his expression deadly.

"_Never without gloves on, always as carefully as possible, and I promise I will defer to your judgment. In fact, you may be the best to help me with this endeavor." _Spy answered, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

The Heavy paused, mouth drawn into a thin line, eyes narrowed, and finally, he smiled. "If Spy can bring Sasha from my room to garage, then I shall let you examine her. It must also be by yourself, while not scratching her." He poked a single thick finger into the Spy's chest, that dark smile curling up his mouth as his eyes flashed triumph.

"But…it weighs three-hundred and fifty kilograms, how precisely do you think I can lift that?" Spy asked, his composure cracking as he threw his arms in the air.

"If little baby Spy is too weak, then he will not be able to touch Sasha."

"You are aware of the fact that I shall need to touch her to carry her, oui?" The Spy finally asked in something like desperation.

"Yes. I do not think little Spy will even be able to pick her up." Heavy grinned at him. "But, if Spy is able to take her to garage, then I will help you, I swear it."

The Spy frowned and then turned to the Scout standing next to him. The Medic and the Scout had yet to continue on, too startled by the recent development to move. The fact that the Medic had been the only other one to speak Russian in the base was another reason, the German having stayed to see what precisely the Spy was going to say. "May I borrow your ear piece?"

"Oh, no, man, I know better than that. You'll say something weird into it, all you Spies do that. There is no way," Scout answered, his hands making a vehement 'no' gesture across his chest.

Spy rolled his eyes. "Please, lapin, it will only be for a moment. I need to ask the Engineer something."

The Scout narrowed his eyes at him, frowning suspiciously before finally holding it out. "Fine, and quit calling me rabbit!"

"Merci, and no, I will not." The Spy took it and cleared his throat, pressing the button that allowed for base-wide communication. "This is Scout, and I am still a sad little virgin!" The high pitched parody of the Scout's voice had barely finished coming from the speakers before the Spy was gone, vanishing as he ran away, the earpiece left on the floor, snorting cackling laughter echoing behind him. The Scout cursed, about to run after him, but the still laughing Medic had begun ushering him into the med bay, and an amused Medic was also one that was less likely to perform sick, twisted experiments on you.

Scout would take what insurance he could get.

….

The Spy walked up to the Engineer, another cigarette in his mouth. The Sniper was also with the Engineer in the garage, the Australian often choosing the company of the quiet, hospitable American to anyone else. The Texan turned to him with a grin. "Heard that announcement you made, partner, mighty good choice."

"I'll say." Sniper tipped his hat to him, a grin on his face.

"Merci." The Spy nodded in acknowledgement before turning to the shorter man. "Engineer, I am in need of your assistance."

"Oh really now? What can I help you with?" His goggles flashed as they focused on him, his expression interested.

Spy flicked his disguise kit open, placing it on the workbench in front of him. "I will need for you to remove your goggles, mon ami."

"Alright, Spook…" The Engineer did so carefully, tilting his hardhat back to look at him better after pulling his protective eyewear down around his neck, blinking at the sudden change in light.

"Very good." The Spy was busy removing all the cigarettes from his case, placing them in a line neatly. "Bushman, would you mind bringing me the two screwdrivers to your left? The small ones."

"Sure thing, Wanker." Sniper grinned at him, handing them over calmly.

"Merci. Now, Engineer, I am going to require you to turn this screwdriver when I tell you." He began fiddling with it, the Engineer's eyes slowly drifting down to the open console, that is, before the Spy's finger angled his chin back up. Blue eyes focused on an amused smirk, the Engineer smiling sheepishly. "And I am going to request that you keep your eyes up here, kind sir." The Spy's voice rose in a teasing fasletto, his eyelashes fluttering innocently as he gave a rather coy smile. The Engineer frowned, even as the Sniper burst out laughing.

"Spy, that's just wrong."

"Non, telling you to 'mange de la merde et meurs' would be wrong, that was supposed to be _charming_." Spy smirked at him, adjusting a few things with his own screwdriver. He positioned the other and brought the Engineer's hand to it. "Twist when I say."

"What did that random French jumble mean, anyway, Spook?" Sniper asked.

"I told him to eat shit and die, twist please." The Engineer did so, even as his look turned offended, the Sniper cracking up.

"Well, isn't that the most polite thing I ever heard. See if I help you next time you ask for it." Engineer frowned, but there was the tiniest hint of amusement flickering in his blue eyes, which hadn't moved from the others'.

"My apologies, Laborer, I was merely making a point. You deserve to choke and die on something like…oh, perhaps a nice Bordeaux wine." His smile was vicious, even as Sniper chuckled again, not bothering to pay much attention to what the two of them were doing with the disguise kit.

"Gee, thanks, Spook. I'm blushing," Engineer deadpanned, rolling his eyes with a smirk.

"Ah-ah, keep looking up. I am quite aware of the various tricks one uses to get a decent look at something, mon ami."

"Suppose you would be." Engineer sighed, letting the Spy guide the screwdriver to the next point, twisting as he was told to do so, and in general following the quiet directions of the other. Finally the Spy smiled, pushed the Engineer into the Sniper, and immediately began work on the innards of the Spytron 3000 in earnest. The Texan and Australian untangled themselves, protesting loudly, even as the Spy finally closed it back up.

"Apologies once again, but the last bit was the truly important step, if you had seen that, I'd be quite literally fried, I was not willing to take chances."

"I hope you get jarated something good, Wanker," Sniper snapped. Spy shuddered.

"I personally hope not. Now, gentlemen…" Spy's butterfly knife was twirled neatly around his fingers. "If you do not mind, I am going to deal with the Heavy."

"Now wait one moment, Spook, what do you mean 'deal with?'" Engineer asked, pausing in his movements to replace his goggles over his eyes.

"I just need only the tiniest amount of blood. I won't gut him like a Cornish game hen, I promise!" The jump in octave combined with his wide-eyed innocent stare led to crossed arms and raised eyebrows. He sighed. "Fine, I will not kill the Heavy. But he was asking for it." Just as the Spy was about to leave he froze, his mouth slowly twisting down at the corners before he turned to look at the two behind him. Neither of them liked the twisted smile that curled up his mouth. The Spy finally left, leaving behind two men that looked at each other, raised an eyebrow, and went off to their own parts of the garage, sharing the silence that was often the only reason the Sniper ever came down.

….

"Medic, if I might ask a question…" The Spy stood at a reasonable distance away from the German, his expression politely indifferent, even as his mind reeled in confusion at what he was seeing. He had been wondering where precisely the Soldier was for a while, the knowledge that he would have usually seen the crazy American wandering the halls talking to Shovel by that hour always at the back of his mind. It seemed, however, that Scout was not the only one that knew they were having examinations that day.

The Soldier had somehow lodged himself up in the rafters; looking over his shoulder just enough to peer down at the Medic from under his helmet and shake Shovel defiantly, bellowing various insults at the top of his lungs. The German was rubbing at his temples, trying to use whatever bedside manor he possessed to calm the man down and get him to come down. Unsurprisingly, it only seemed to rile the Soldier up.

"Was? Was wollen Sie?" He spat out, turning to look at the Spy with his blue eyes spitting sparks. Spy took a step back as a safety precaution. Medics were known to have needles, angry Medics were known to use them. Hell, pleased Medics were known to use them. Spy usually avoided him entirely out of principal, but in this instance…

"I merely wished to ask you something that you, as the Medic, would be most likely to know, and tell me." Spy answered, his expression sarcastically contrite. He knew it was likely a good thing the Medic was too irritated to pay proper attention.

The Medic sighed. "If you can get him down, I shall answer anything you would like to know, patient confidentiality be damned! I can't take anymore!"

"Nazi scum, you get the hell away from my person, or I will personally oversee the maggots that will be feasting upon your flesh after my Shovel bashes out your brains!" Soldier bellowed, shaking his Shovel, hanging onto the rafter with his other hand and crossed legs like a sloth. A very angry sloth that shouts insults and murders people, but a sloth all the same.

"Soldier, I need to perform the examinations. It is required, believe me, it is not that I _want_ to. I _have_ to. Believe me, I would much rather be doing other things than seeing that you are all healthy and functioning." Medic glared up at him, mouth thinning. "Please, come down so I can get this over with quickly."

"No! Go away! I want nothing to do with you! And you! You Crouton, go away! I will not be brought down by a surrendering pansy like yourself!" With every sentence, Soldier shook Shovel, his helmet rising the tiniest amount whenever he moved, revealing flashes of blue eyes glaring down at him in contempt.

Spy tilted his head to the side, lips pursing slightly as he gouged the distance from the floor to the beam where the Soldier was hanging. The red brick wall had little to hang onto in order to climb up, but the Spy had made do with less before. He sighed, removing his jacket calmly and handing it off to the Medic. "Please do not let this fall on the floor, mon ami, merci." He rolled his white dress-shirt's sleeves up, backed up a step, and before the Soldier quite knew what he was doing, launched himself up the wall, kicking off the brick surface with a foot and clinging to the man's stomach.

Unfortunately for the Soldier, as much as he may have resembled a sloth, he lacked the claws they were known for. The Frenchman's added weight, no matter how slight it actually was in comparison to others, brought him down with a yell. Spy landed on his feet, staggering backwards, and away from the Soldier, who landed on his back with a sickening thud and a crack. Spy winced. "Well, that did not go as planned…"

"Ohhh…" Soldier moaned, curling up in the fetal position, even as he shook Shovel weakly, glaring at him from under his helmet. "Stupid…French…pansy! I will…murder you…"

"Danke, Herr Spy, here is your jacket." Medic handed it over with a smile, leaning over the Soldier with a spiteful grin. "Did that hurt, fräulein, _sorry_…shall we go to my office so I can make it all better?"

"Merci, now, Medic, before you go, would you mind answering my question?" Spy asked, fixing his sleeves and buttoning them neatly before shrugging on his red-pinstriped jacket.

"Sicher, what is it you wished to know?"

"Do any of the members of this team have any diseases that are transmitted by blood or other bodily fluids?" Spy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Medic raised his own. "What other fluids are we talking about, Spy?"

"To be honest, I would prefer blood. I do not know about your own personal preference, but if I am going to be putting it in my body…"

"What precisely are you talking about doing, vampirism, possibly even cannibalism?" Medic asked, walking over to him, peering into each blue eye in turn with a critical look, his hand rubbing at his lightly stubbled chin. The grin he was giving him was somewhere between amused and genuinely interested. Spy did not know which worried him more.

"Bien sûr non, the disguise kit does require a certain amount of DNA from whoever I wish to appear as when using this setting. It works better on fluids, and as prevalent as it is, I am not interested in using the Sniper's piss." He frowned at the thought, shuddering. Medic brightened immediately.

"Oh, ja, I understand now. Nien, none of the members of this team have any sort of disease that can be transmitted by blood. Whatever diseases they may have had in the past have long since been cured due to constant exposure to the medi gun as well as respawn itself," Medic answered, returning to the downed Soldier who continued to struggle weakly. "Would you mind helping me take him to the medical bay?"

"Non, I will certainly help you avec le soldat. It is my fault he is currently in this predicament after all…"

"…Maggots…" Soldier grunted, and finally fell still as the two of them lifted him up and continued towards the medical bay.

"Oh, before I forget, your examination is after the Pyro's, would you be kind enough to go get him on your way to whoever else you need to talk to?"

"Certainement. I will go collect the soulless monster for you…" Spy frowned, the two of them entering the hallway that led to the waiting room and the accompanying surgery ward.

"Come now, Spy, he is still a Kamerad." Medic grinned at him, his amusement at the Spy's discomfort palpable.

"Oui, one who burns people and laughs maniacally is certainly a worthy friend," Spy spat.

"And one who stabs them in the back is better?" Medic asked.

"But of course." Spy winked at him, the Medic chuckling quietly, backing his way through the door and into the main surgery, where everything was immaculately cleaned. Spy would have been surprised at the dove that flew down from the rafters and landed on the Medic's shoulder, but he was too used to Archimedes' antics, considering it was better just him than the entire flock of them. The Medic was as well, barely blinking when the dove jumped down to perch on the Shoulder's grenade. Spy shooed him off when he went to peck at the pin, however, his tolerance only extending so far.

"True enough, here, lay him on this bed for me, would you?" Medic transferred the Soldier to the Spy fully, walking over to one of the various shelves that lined the space, picking up various medical paraphernalia as he did. Two of them were empty syringes which he promptly sterilized before walking back to the Spy, holding them out calmly. "Would you prefer that I be the one to draw the blood?"

"If it wouldn't be any trouble…" The Frenchman confirmed, stepping back from the man he had just positioned on the bed fully.

"Very well, I take it you would like my own as well?"

"Oui, if you would not mind."

"Nien, it is fine." Medic waved it away, jabbing the needle unceremoniously into the Soldier, who let out a groan, even as the Medic drew the smallest amount of blood and gave it to the Spy. "Here is one…" The Medic quickly found his own vein and deliberately drew his own blood calmly. "And here is my own. If you like, I have a sample of the Scout's that I took recently, would that work?"

"Thank you and yes, it should." Spy took them both, and frowned. "You would not happen to have other syringes on you?"

"You planning on collecting the whole teams?" Medic asked with a small smirk.

"Oui, it is necessary." Spy shrugged.

"Ah, well, in that case…" He collected the other required needles, sterilizing them one at a time and placing them in their own plastic baggies, bringing them over to the Spy.

"My thanks."

"It's no problem. I want to see this happen as much as the next person." Medic smirked, before adjusting his round spectacles calmly. "You do know how to draw blood safely, yes?"

Spy smirked, removing one of the needles and shrugging his jacket off, rolled up his sleeve, and drew his own blood calmly. "Et voila."

"Very good. Have fun, fräulein, try not to make too big of a mess." Medic sneered at him.

"I do have a problem with messes." Spy chuckled, rolling his sleeve back down after the Medic placed a bandage over the spot, knowing and recognizing the Spy's hatred for blood on his clothing. Medic had no such issue, but at times was known to pander to those who would give him something.

Spy nodded to them both and went to look for Pyro, who was very likely to be in the boiler room. He hated going into the boiler room. It was always too damn hot, which was precisely why the Pyro loved it. On the way to where the Pyro would be, the Spy nearly ran into the Demoman who had fallen around the corner of another branching hallway directly into the one he was walking in. His bottle of Scrumpy bounced along the red tiles, empty. Spy looked down, raising an eyebrow, and nudging him with the toe of his shoe. Demoman could hold his liquor with the best of them, but on weekends, and in particular the day before the match, he was known to drink more than usual. It led to incidents like this one more often than the Spy would like.

"I don't wanna…go away…" Demo slurred, ending the short statement with a burp. Spy sighed, crouching down next to him.

"Would you be in need of assistance?"

"Huh?" Demo asked, propping his head up enough to stare at him with his one decent eye. "What are you talking about?"

"…Never mind. I am going to take a blood sample, is this alright with you?" Spy asked, rolling the sleeve of the Demoman's white shirt up, pushing the sleeve of his red jumpsuit up as he did so.

"What?" Demo blinked, watching in a haze of drunken confusion as a needle was inserted into his skin, red liquid filling it, and then promptly passed out. Spy sighed, rolling his eyes before stepping over him, continuing on his walk to the boiler room.

Finally he arrived and grumbled quietly before shucking his jacket, loosening his tie, and knocking on the door to announce his presence, before entering. The black gasmask turned large round lenses towards him, reflecting the light of the fire in the boiler as they stared into his soul. He _hated_ Pyros. The man stood up to greet him, red asbestos lined suit shining, black gloved hand beckoning him closer. Spy had started to sweat the instant the heavy door had been opened, but he walked forward anyway.

"Whmnt dnm ynb wamt?" Pyro asked finally once he was close enough, staring at him unmoving.

"The Medic requested that I tell you your examination is next." Spy answered, doing his best to refrain from rubbing at the sweat beading under his balaclava, or otherwise showing his discomfort.

"Mmmph," Pyro mumbled, even under the gasmask, likely stating something the Spy had no wish to hear before waving him out. Pyro turned back to the boiler, a single gloved hand going out to rub against it, hesitating only when he noticed that the Spy had yet to move. He stood up then, drawing himself up to his full height. "Whmnt?"

"Monsieur, I have another request to make of you. We are experimenting with my disguise kit, in order to properly attempt what I am going to do…I am in need of your blood. The Medic, Scout, Soldier, and Demoman have already contributed, as well as myself." He held up the baggies, displaying the filled syringes as evidence. Pyro continued to stare at him and the Spy sighed. "I am going to attempt to disguise myself as the BLU Heavy's minigun, in order to do that I need to test and work up to it. We're going to attempt to trick him. All you have to do is let me have a small amount of your blood and I shall leave you alone."

Pyro appeared to think it over, finally his gloved hand moved to his other, sliding it off. Spy nearly flinched at the sight of the burnt flesh underneath his glove, only just managing to keep his expression from changing as more of it was exposed as his sleeve was rolled up. When there was finally enough for the Spy to get at a vein he did so, careful not to touch the scarred and burned skin. The sleeve was rolled down and the glove replaced, the Spy nodding his head to the Pyro in thanks before leaving as quickly as he could without seeming afraid. As he shut the door he heard the Pyro laughing.

Spy shuddered, peeling back his sweat-soaked clothing with a sneer, regretting the fact that he had not removed his red vest as well. He debated getting a shower or just continuing with what needed to be done and treating himself to a shower later. After a moment of consideration, a reminder of what time it was and the realization that if he planned on getting all their blood samples before dinner, it would likely be best to just continue on. With a sigh he headed to his last stop, regretting the fact that he had left all his cigarettes in the garage, yet knowing precisely why he had done so.

The Heavy laughed at him when the Spy made his request, finally turning his arm out so the Spy could get what he had came for. Spy had a moment to look into his room and see Sasha on her own little bed and groan. He sincerely hoped this worked.


	3. Chapter 3

_Warning: Here be Technobabble. Probably very out of place as well, but in a universe where you can disguise yourself as other people with a push of a button, you have respawn and therefore cannot die, and apparently have the ability to create/upgrade sentry guns by hitting them with wrenches, and they also have the ability to distinguish between enemies due to the color they are wearing...yeah. I'm saying to hell with it. If I didn't say to hell with it this probably wouldn't happen. So yes. Be happy._

...

Sniper popped his hat up slightly from where he was sitting on his chair, leaned back against the wall, chair propped up on two legs as he woke up from his dozing to watch the Spy enter the garage. Engineer looked over to him, wiping at his greasy wrench with a cloth, giving the Spy a smile.

"Spook, you're back!" Engineer grinned at him, wiping his own hands and turning to face him fully.

"So it would seem." Spy sighed, finally succumbing to the need to pull slightly at the balaclava, peeling the sweat-induced dampness away from his neck slightly. The sight of him doing that sent Sniper clattering back onto four legs. Spy smirked at him after letting it snap back in place. "Apologies, bushman, did not mean to startle you." He smirked at him, the Sniper huffing as he crossed his arms.

"Whatever. What do you want?" Sniper asked, leaning forward onto his crossed arms that lay over his knees.

"To be honest, I have come for your blood." Spy gave them a wide, evil-looking smile.

"What?" The loud exclamation was echoed by both parties, blinking at him with wide blue eyes.

"What the heck do you want that for, Spook?"

"Gentlemen, you are certainly not the only ones who donated. I have the rest of the team's blood as well, including my own." He walked over to the desk he had been using before, his cigarettes still lined up neatly and precisely. His trust in the Engineer was never misplaced; it was a bit too bad it never quite went the opposite way.

As friendly as the Southerner always was to him, the Spy had seen the way he looked at him when he approached any of his inventions. It would not have been worth the time to assure him that, while he was admittedly supposed to spend most of the time on the field sapping the other team's sentries, and generally causing hell for the BLU team's Engineer, it did not say anything about the RED one. He generally left his own team alone, unless they had been asking for it, which happened more than he would have liked. Besides, the constant paranoia amused him. He often went out of his way to encourage it.

"Really now, well…I suppose. You be careful now." Engineer walked forward, holding out his left arm, which already had the sleeve rolled up to his elbow.

"Of course." He drew the Engineer's blood calmly and clinically without much fuss, the Sniper offering his own left-gloved arm, his own shirt rolled up as much as the Engineer's, and the Spy repeated the procedure. "Merci to you both."

"No problem. Now, what precisely are you going to do with that?" Engineer asked, tilting his hardhat back with a mildly greasy hand. Spy sneered at him.

"Oh…this and that." He shrugged, replacing each individual cigarette into his case with a smile, eight wonderful little cigarettes in total, after he fished a few out from a pocket. He had made a pit-stop to his room after dealing with the Heavy, unable to continue without his precious nicotine. He currently had one in his mouth that he was tapping with his teeth quietly in thought. He looked up at them, frowning slightly before sighing. "I suppose this aspect would not be something that could get me terribly brutalized. You can watch if you like." The sarcasm was practically oozing from his every word and they responded appropriately.

"Much obliged, Spook." Engineer smirked, drawing a chair over and sitting on it backwards with a grin. Spy frowned at him.

"I'm going to join you, hold up." Sniper dragged his chair over and plopped down as well, grinning at him. The Spy groaned before sighing, looking them both in the eye.

"If either of you value your lives you will not speak of this to anyone. My sappers do not just affect sentries. They also sap respawn." He finished the threat with the tiniest of a smile. "I do not like resorting to threats to my _dear friends_, but it is worth more than my life to make certain that none of these secrets are given to others. Do not make me back my threat up. I have enjoyed working with you. It would be a shame to break in new recruits." If it wasn't for the fact that they could see honest fear in his eyes as he spoke they would have reacted violently. As it was they immediately turned serious, frowning, leaning forward, peering into his blue eyes with equal determination.

"Not a word leaves this room, mate, swear it." Sniper spoke first, removing his hat and placing it over his chest in something like a vow.

"Won't say a damn thing to nobody," Engineer answered with equal solemnity. "It's too interesting to punish you over."

"Très bon," Spy sighed out, and immediately set to work. They watched as each syringe was inserted into a particular cigarette, frowning in slight disgust as the liquid seeped out along the stick, blotchily staining the white a color as red as their team. He then replaced them, tapping a corresponding button for each of them as he slid them in. Finally he pressed a few other buttons and snapped it shut. There was a strange glow from inside the case, sliding from the top of it to the bottom before it flickered out.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that I followed none of that…" Engineer stated with a grin, the Spy rolling his eyes. When he opened the case they were all colored red, the Spy pulling the one that corresponded to the Heavy out with a frown. "Although, hold on a second, are those cigarettes you smoke how your disguise kit works, like…if you didn't smoke before you took this job you'd have to learn to? Hell, did you used to be a non-smoker until you took this job?" Engineer asked, as a thought came to him, leaning forward. Spy blinked, looking to the side, chewing on his lip quietly, obviously debating with himself on whether or not to tell them anything. Finally he cleared his throat.

"I was not always a smoker, no. When I was first instructed about the disguise kit and told that cigarettes were a main component I almost complained. I had no wish to start such a habit, but in the end my 'Professionalism' won out. I learned to smoke, one apres dinner, avec a glass of wine, that sort of thing. It was only after I had habituated myself to them that I learned that whatever need there originally were for cigarettes had been removed." The Spy shrugged, listening to their token outrage with a small smirk. "So, no, the cigarettes are no longer used in such a manner. However, once we learned that we could and they had been supposed to…well, we had to find out how precisely it worked. In short it was originally going to, no longer does so, and now it works as how it should have." He summarized with a smug smile as he twirled the cigarette through his fingers carelessly.

"Well if that doesn't beat all. You never wanted to be a smoker then?" Engineer asked, scratching at his head.

"No. I could not stand the smell. Now I can't stop." He chuckled darkly. "C'est le vie, oui?"

"No, I'd say it's a crying shame." Sniper crossed his arms over his chest, watching as the Spy rolled his eyes in response, finally dismissing them both as he looked at the cigarette in his fingers, mustering his courage up.

"Well…wish me luck." Spy sighed. "This is going to be disgusting." He removed the cigarette currently in his mouth out, stepped back from the table, retrieved his lighter after placing the quite literally blood-red cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and pressed the proper button on his disguise kit. There was a puff of smoke, a strangled cry of pain that deepened in pitch as it went, and then both were gone, replaced by the sight of the RED Heavy, the Spy's clothes in a shredded heap around him. The loud screams of protest and disgust, and accompanied cursing in French in a very much Russian accented voice echoed throughout the base.

"Bloody hell! Who on Earth would want to see _that_?" Sniper pulled his hat down in front of his face.

"I made segmented stalls for a damn reason! Goodnight Irene, I think I've hit the deep-end of absolute awful. Haven't you done this before, Spook? I thought you said you did!" Engineer's own hardhat was doing a similar amount of damage control.

"Merde, baiser, pisse, merde, merde, _merde_! This was _not_ something I was told about! And I loved that suit! I am going to _kill_ that Heavy. This is all his fault!" The…Spy immediately set to finding something to hide behind, fingers almost automatically going towards his balaclava, which was luckily still intact. "And no, I have not actually tried it before, we just learned how to and that was it! We weren't quite willing to actually test it. The Heavy also has an oddly small head…" He fiddled with the slightly too tight balaclava, almost as an afterthought, frowning.

"Thought you European fellows weren't all that embarrassed about the naturalness of the human body." Engineer finally coughed out, laughing, peering slightly around his hardhat when he realized the Spy was standing behind yet another wood barrier, hands dancing practically everywhere in their owners shock.

"I'm not embarrassed about _mine_. I work hard on keeping a proper figure, this is just…sad." He squeezed at a roll of fat with a frown. "To hell with it. The Heavy wants me to take his stupid Sasha, fine." Before they quite realized what he was doing he had stalked out of the garage, the look strange on someone who couldn't quite pull it off, almost waddling. The two of them paused, looked at each other, and looked back towards the exit.

"Three…" Sniper started.

"Two…" Engineer smirked.

"One."

"MEIN GOTT, HEAVY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Medic's voice was first.

"MY EYES, MY EYES, THEY BUUUURRNN!" Scout screamed.

"AAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHHH!" Soldier's distinctive cry echoed down the halls last, likely just having been released from the Medic's 'tender mercies' to the sight of a naked Heavy coming right towards him.

The Medic finally seemed to notice the balaclava that was still in position because he shouted out, "Wait a moment, that Heavy is the Spy!"

"What is ruckus?" The Heavy could finally be heard asking as he likely poked his head out from his room.

"Get out of my way, Heavy!" There was a sound of something being shoved and a quiet whisper of,

"Мой Бог…" before something began stomping back to the garage. The Spy came back, carrying Sasha in his hands, gently placed it on the workbench in front of them, and removed the cigarette, pressing the button as he did so. A further puff of smoke and the Spy was standing in front of them, very much as himself.

"Gentlemen." He nodded to them with a wild grin, turned around, and stalked out, naked as the day he was born. If he had been born with a balaclava on his head, which to be honest, most of his team thought he had.

"Luckily…I already don't remember this…" Demoman finally slurred quietly. It was the last straw. The two of them erupted into laughter, falling off chairs and nearly choking on their own spit as they cackled. Finally they calmed down slightly, coughing and panting, before the Engineer finally had to comment.

"You know, sometimes, I really love that Spy, he's always good for a laugh." And then they were dying again, the protests of their teammates echoing in their ears.

….

The Spy had finished showering and was shrugging on his jacket by the time the Heavy had entered the garage and sat down, staring longingly at Sasha. The Engineer and the Sniper were doing their best to ignore him, erupting into sniggers every so often despite their best efforts. The Heavy bore it all with a frown on his face, a frown that turned into a snarl when the fully clothed and clean Spy entered, a wide smile on his face. "Well, that was fun, bonjour, fat man! You willing to help me now?"

"I should crush Spy with bare hands." Heavy stood up, towering over the shorter man, who didn't even bother pretending to be afraid of him, walking within his reach, even as he approached Sasha calmly.

"But you will not, because you made a promise." Spy shrugged, looking up at him with a smirk. "Shall we get to work?"

Heavy sighed, slumping back into his chair, which creaked loudly at the application of his weight. "Very well."

"Excellent. Now, I am going to ask you a few questions regarding your wonderful Sasha, you will answer them, and then we shall go from there, d'accord?" Spy asked, sitting down on his own chair, flicking open his modified disguise kit and opening whatever section allowed him to input settings.

"Must we do this in English?" Heavy asked, looking over to the Engineer and Sniper with a dark frown, Spy immediately switched to Russian.

"_No, not unless you would prefer, I am perfectly content speaking in Russian. Now_…" So began a long and in depth question and answer session, the Heavy answering some questions reluctantly, and other questions with absolute zeal. The entire time, the Spy continued entering data in his kit, a plain white cigarette in his mouth shifting from one side to the other in concentration, smoke wisps rising into the air constantly.

The Engineer had given up trying to understand what they were saying; working again on his walking sentry prototype, hoping that this time at least he would get a decent idea of what precisely had gone wrong. He hated it when prototypes exploded. The least they could do would be just stop, or jam, or something less violent. Engineer loved guns and equally loved the violence associated with them; he was just not a big fan of violence towards his sentries. Most respected him for that, the Spy teased him mercilessly.

Finally the Spy removed his cigarette, crushing it on the ashtray that the Engineer had provided for him, mouth in a smile. "Well…I believe that will work." He smiled at the Heavy. "Many thanks; Sasha truly is a remarkably beautiful weapon."

Heavy straightened, beaming at him. "Da, is very true."

"Now…now I need to work on some logistics with you." Spy stood up finally, walking around the table holding Sasha with a frown. "Would you mind if I asked you to hold it up for a moment?"

"Нет, will be no problem." So saying, Heavy stood up, holding the large weapon calmly, the Spy narrowing his eyes as he examined the way he gripped it. Two handles, one a forward grip at a short distance from where the white motor that fed the bullets and provided the spin needed to fire began. The other was a sideways grip, extending a little father out from where that motor ended. Six barreled, shined to perfection, and deadly. There were few things that provided as much fright on the battlefield as a Heavy, especially when accompanied by the Medic, that weapon was one of the reasons.

Spy finally crouched down slightly, examining it just a bit closer before standing back a bit, "Fire."

Heavy grinned and did so, the barrels beginning their preparatory spinning before hot lead spewed out violently. Spy watched carefully all the while, finally grinning himself as the Heavy laughed uproariously. Finally he stopped, the other two sharing the space waiting for the Spy's pronouncement.

"You know what…I truly believe we can do this. The BLU Heavy has the same gun as you, correct?" He asked with a blink, suddenly hitting on a snag that he figured should have come to him much sooner than now.

"Yes, BLU team stole blueprints for Sasha. She is close, but is not as good."

"What is the difference?" Spy asked immediately.

"It is not big difference; she is merely not as cared for." Heavy shrugged, the Spy not satisfied by that answer in the least.

"It is aesthetically different then?" He prompted, Heavy immediately shaking his head.

"Not as much polish." Heavy finally clarified, leading to the Spy relaxing.

"Ah, well, that can be fixed easily. Now…" He frowned slightly and finally sighed. "I don't quite know how to go about this…" He admitted quietly, frowning. Sniper and Engineer immediately perked up.

"Hey! That's easy, partner, see about finding a way to make your weight distribute in a similar way, so when he picks you up it won't seem as immediately apparent you're that different," Engineer piped up, grinning, a smudge of grease across his face.

Heavy blinked as he tried to process all the words, finally brightening in comprehension. Before the Spy could quite come up with a proper response, or prepare himself in any way, two large hands had grabbed him. He let out a squawk, finding himself lifted up in the air by the collar of his jacket and the back of his pants, his pants taking most of his weight. His butterfly knife was pulled out immediately in reflex, only to have it drop to the ground as he was swung down to rest near the Heavy's hip in a similar manner to how he held Sasha, and shaken slightly. Spy groaned slightly, crossing his legs under himself, the Heavy immediately brightening, even as the other two were nearly falling over themselves laughing.

"Da, that would be how Sasha would be held. You are very good Spy!" Heavy grinned. "You still do not weigh as much, maybe Spy should fix?"

"Mon dieux…" Spy gasped out, his hands joining his almost futile protection of his crotch area, the Heavy's initial pleased reaction having mildly crushed a rather important place.

"Spy?" Heavy questioned in slight confusion, but there was just a touch of vindictive amusement in his eyes. He knew precisely what he had done and the Spy knew it. In a vicious move Spy finally managed to flip his disguise kit open, pressing the button that corresponded with the new settings. Heavy changed his balance at the extra weight, grinning happily. "Замечательный!" He shouted out, the Spy finally recovering enough to hold his hands out in the proper position.

"I don't get it, why don't you actually look like Sasha now? If you fully turned into the Heavy, why won't it do the same with the gun?" Engineer asked finally.

"Do I look like I am made of metal? I must have something in common with what I am to turn into, if that is what I am to be doing. Besides, I need to be ready to run..." Spy bit out, glaring, still a bit sore from earlier. "All I need for this particular disguise is to have it keep it in action for as long as I choose, and to in general feel like a gun, even if I move my hands out from where they should be. For instance, I can do _this_…" He gripped his butterfly knife and jabbed it at the Heavy's crotch with a snarl.

Luckily for the Heavy, their inability to shoot each other also extended to their knives, although no one was quite sure how. The Russian still gave a bellow, dropping the Spy automatically. Spy caught himself on his hands and knees, moving away from the Heavy as quickly as he could, hiding behind the chuckling Engineer, laughing. The Heavy glared at him, about to take a few stomping steps forward when the Spy got control of his cackling, and waved his hands in surrender. "Relax, mon ami, if I had been able to actually stab you I would not have done it. I was simply illustrating a point, I swear. I do not wish to harm my teammates so harshly; I was simply showing how I might escape."

Heavy glared at him before nodding his head once, beckoning him to come closer. Spy stayed right where he was, his feet planted on the floor, a rather tentative smile on his face that looked like it would fade at any second. Heavy rolled his eyes. "Is fine, I understand. It was not unlike you, and you also did not mean to harm me. I believe that. You joke, but you rarely cause pain."

Spy winced at his pronouncement, both out of the fact that the Sniper and Engineer looked strangely thoughtful at that statement and the fact that he had obviously underestimated him. He decided that he really needed to stop doing that. He walked over to the Heavy with his shoulders hunched, looking remarkably like a whipped puppy, the Engineer and Sniper chuckling at him. This time when the Heavy picked him up he was careful not to cause pain.

"Alright, now, see if he feels the same when you turn and move, and check for any unbalances." Engineer finally prompted.

Heavy grinned and shifted him right and left, finally pressing an imaginary button. The telltale sound of 'Sasha' warming up filled the air, the three of them brightening up immediately. When he pretended to press the trigger used to fire, the Spy's shout of protest as he immediately attempted to press the right button on the disguise kit did not come fast enough. The pockmarks left by what were assumed to be bullets led to a bit of fear, especially since the Heavy was currently aiming towards the sentry.

Heavy dropped him immediately, even as the sentry blew up, the Engineer flying backwards as he was caught in the blast, smashing onto the ground like a ragdoll, his head bouncing as his body splayed out limply. Spy forced himself upright, running towards the downed Engineer, Sniper already crouching over the Texan, Heavy shouting out for the Medic. "Truckie, Truckie, speak to me, come on, you alright?" Sniper patted his cheek gently, avoiding the cuts on his face, never happier that the Engineer wore goggles and a hardhat habitually than in that moment. His brown overalls were torn, various shrapnel pieces lodged into his skin and clothing, streaks of blood sliding from shallow cuts. Spy stood over him quietly, his arms limp at his sides, blinking in slight surprise.

"I had no idea it was able to do that…" Spy finally spoke. "I was going to tell him to aim at something that would not explode."

"Well, now you do, Wanker." The Sniper's voice no longer held the usual warmth, the sarcastic sneering that was a staple of his conversations with the Spy; it was now harsh, violent. Spy crossed his arms, frowning.

"Je suis désolé, bushman…but truly, I can only fire at where someone points me. Should you not be blaming the Heavy?" Spy asked, sneering at him. Sniper frowned up at him, finally shaking his head.

"Yeah, I suppose so. Come on, Truckie, wake up…" He patted his face a bit harder, the Engineer finally dazedly stirring.

"…Spy…sapping my sentry…" Engineer groaned, looking around dazedly. They immediately relaxed.

"Non, je suis désolé, mon ami, I sort of _shot_ your sentry…not on purpose, I assure you, but the Heavy cannot aim to save his life." Spy smiled at him sheepishly, the Engineer's eyebrows furrowing together before he shakily brought his right fist into the Spy's shin. Spy jolted back, not quite expecting it, not quite willing to lash out in response. He had deserved it.

"Bad dispenser," Engineer gasped out, something like a smirk on his face. Spy smirked as well and decided that Texan forgiveness hurt like a bitch. The Medic ran up at that moment, medipack strapped onto his back, taking a moment to survey the scene before tisking lightly, shaking his head.

"Now you see why I studied medicine, much less chance of things blowing up on you." He grumbled to himself quietly, slowly switching to German as he tapped his foot impatiently.

"You considered engineering?" The Texan asked, sliding his goggles off of his face along with his hardhat, slumping back as the medigun was turned on it's lowest setting, more to stop the blood-flow than seal the injuries. The Medic took tweezers from the pack, and calmly set about removing the larger pieces of shrapnel.

"I considered anything with science. I was particularly interested in mathematics, chemistry, engineering, biology…as you can tell, I was not all that picky. Eventually my morbid curiosity won out. I could not resist figuring out how the human body worked, or, more importantly, how far it could be driven before it gave out." The wide nasty smile he gave as he dug a particularly nastily lodged in splinter led to uncomfortable glances, the Texan gritting his teeth in pain. "It is so close to engineering after all, only inside of wires, oil, and chips…you have veins, blood, organs...I could go on, but I might bore you…"

"Nah, it's alright. I find it interesting, honestly…"

"How did this happen anyway?" Medic asked.

"Apparently the Spy can shoot bullets at a rate of ten-thousand rounds per minute…" Engineer smirked. "And it can blow up my sentry." His smirk turned into a deep frown, the Spy giving a shrug when the Medic looked at him.

"I take it you were successful?" Medic raised an eyebrow at him.

"Almost. I have yet to complete the finishing touch." Spy nodded his head in confirmation, drawing confused glances.

"What's the finishing touch?" Sniper asked. Spy grinned, flicking his disguise kit open, and sliding a white paper mask from the back of it. Engineer smirked at him, nodding to the back corner of his garage where a small wooden case sat, completely innocent in its simplicity, and commonness.

"Have at it." Engineer smirked at him and the Spy nodded his head, frowning down at what used to be clean pants before sighing, walking over to grab it. He dropped the case down in front of Sasha, narrowing his eyes slightly before setting to work.

Medic finally removed the last of the shrapnel and used the medigun to close the wounds fully, the four of them wandering over to where the Spy sat calmly, the case opened to reveal various drawing utensils. Spy hesitated, looking up and around at everyone standing around him with arms crossed and curious expressions, and immediately groaned. "Merde…"

"Get drawing." Engineer jabbed him in the back. "I get that you don't want your usual secrets and methods found, but it's just a damn drawing. Besides, you owe me."

Spy sighed, shrugging his jacket back onto the chair he was sitting on, and rolling his sleeves up, before setting to work. The four of them watched with raised eyebrows as he sketched out a vague shape, his eyes flicking from the circle of paper up to the minigun and back again. They watched him tense more and more over a prolonged period of time, before the Sniper finally pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to the Spy, who accepted it with a nod of thanks, blinking when a lighter was offered as well. He touched the end to the flickering flame, puffed, all while continuing his drawing. Finally he set down the pencil, frowning slightly as he looked back and forth from the paper to the actual thing.

"And?" He asked, gesturing at a nearly perfect copy of the Heavy's minigun, frowning up at them.

"Is amazing!" Heavy exclaimed, a wide beaming smile on his face.

"That's good enough for me. Now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me…" Spy stood up, rolling his sleeves down.

"Not so fast, Herr Spy, it is time for your examination. From what I saw earlier you at least seem to not be suffering from any serious deformities, but I would like to get a closer look." Medic smirked at him. The Spy sighed before following after, grasping the mask, and his jacket, before he left.

"I don't know about you, but I have a feeling this is going to be one of the craziest things we've ever seen." Engineer finally stated, gaining a quiet mumble of agreement.

"You think he will let me keep picture once done?" Heavy asked.

"Heavy, after all this I'm certain the Spy will never want to see it again." Engineer grinned up at him.

"I'm not so sure I would want to see it again either," Sniper grumbled. "This might turn out to be more trouble than it's worth. He also owes me a cigarette."


	4. Chapter 4

_And, buildup has been completed. Here's the spectacular conclusion folks, be afraid, be very afraid._

...

"_Mission begins in sixty seconds."_ The Announcer's voice echoed off the walls of the ready room, the eight people standing there doing last minute adjustments to equipment and generally warming up. Teufort was a particularly useless base, but they were hoping that today…today something might actually happen.

"Anyone heard from the Spy?" Engineer asked to a slew of negative responses.

"Think he went over to BLU base bright and early, heard him walk past my van before the sun was up." Sniper shrugged. "But I haven't gotten any actual word from him."

"Man this had so better be worth it, he owes me a new pair of eyes from yesterday. They were bleeding, man, fricken' bleeding!" Scout exclaimed, rubbing at the blue eyes in question with the heels of his hands, groaning. Heavy glared at him. They had mostly decided to just forget that incident ever happened. The Heavy was not someone anyone wanted to tick off.

"Causing chaos and general confusion is the Spook's job, son. I'm pretty sure this'll be something to remember." Engineer grinned, his favorite wrench slid into his tool belt, pumping ammo into his shotgun calmly.

Sniper finished waxing his bowstring, gathering his quiver, and sighting down an arrow quietly before grinning.

"Why the Huntsman, Snipes, you usually don't use it on this map?" Scout asked, jabbing him in the side with his bat. Sniper growled at him, taking a swing at him with his kukri, the Scout ducking automatically, although he knew it wouldn't really hurt him.

"Because, you wanker, I am going to be trying to keep Spy from being crushed by that Heavy once he realizes his Sasha's gone. My rifle bullets have the potential to kill the Spy if he's behind or near a BLU. I've done that before…" Sniper grinned slightly, his teammates looking at him in surprise. "What? At least he's more polite now, right?"

"Is that why he became more sociable?" Engineer asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Sure think so, mate, learned that there was a way to exploit whatever makes us unable to kill each other. Why wouldn't he want to be friendlier, if the consequences of being otherwise were that he would wind up bugging us so much we all want to kill him?" Sniper grinned.

They made noncommittal sounds of agreement.

Pyro checked his propane tank, hefting his flamethrower calmly. They weren't quite sure what the Pyro thought about any of this. Most of the time they weren't sure what he was thinking, if they were to be fully honest, it was hard to when you couldn't even really understand him. He kept himself to himself, and while at times had been known to get particularly friendly towards them, to the Spy? To the Spy he was as cold and harsh as possible. Spy in retaliation was often at his most annoying when the Pyro was in the room, pretending to walk a very fine line between being on their team and ready to join the BLU's at any given second. The rest of the team never told Pyro otherwise, they found his reactions too amusing to bother.

As the countdown began they considered that maybe this would be one of the oddest things they had ever seen. Soldier and Heavy readied themselves, the Medic standing just behind the Heavy, working on his ÜberCharge. The Engineer carried his toolbox containing a ready-made sentry, shimmying back from the Scout as he tried to tap him with his bat, growling. The countdown started, the Scout turning his attention to running his bat against the gate that separated them from the playing area in anticipation, a wild grin on his face. Finally the gate opened and the team charged out with a roar, the Scout in the lead.

They heard the Scout's laughter before they fully saw what he was laughing at. When they finally did see it they froze. The true comedic effect hadn't quite hit them until they watched the BLU Heavy charging forward with a roar, the Medic behind him in his usual position, all the while holding tightly to a RED Spy. Said Spy dangled almost limply from the collar of his jacket and his trousers, fingers out in a way very similar to a child playing guns, the 'finishing touch,' an amazingly accurate drawing of Sasha, tied around his head only added to the hilarity. The cry of, "Run little cowards, run!" accompanied by a mad cackle from the Heavy did not help.

One moment they had been quite willing to fight to their last, the next the Demoman was leaning against the covered bridge that spanned the moat that separated the two bases, laughing his ass off. He was promptly sniped by the BLU Sniper, but they had respawn for a reason. This promptly started a trend. Everywhere the BLU Heavy went, the RED team faltered. Be it from the sight of the Spy's cheeky little wave as the sound of the gun warming up hummed, or the reaction the BLU Heavy had when he noticed that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to shoot them.

Turned out the RED team's inability to shoot each other extended to whatever 'bullets' the Spy was able to fire. That Heavy pulled some of the longest faces, especially when the Scout managed to stop laughing long enough to run around him and bash the BLU Medic in the face. Granted, it gained him a body-full of needles because Heavy's loud question of, "Why is this not working?" made him trip over himself cracking up, but it had been worth it.

Engineer had joined the Sniper up on his typical spot overlooking the covered bridge from the balcony, sitting on top of an admittedly useless dispenser, but the Engineer figured the match would wind up being horribly one-sided anyway. He had left his sentry to guard the intelligence briefcase, but there was no way he was missing this. They sat there with small grins on their mouths, watching as the BLU Heavy aimed at anything and everything. An expression of deepest despair was etched on his face as he watched as everything but the RED's he was attempting to kill was pockmarked with bullet holes.

"You gonna take a shot at him, partner? Seems as though he's sort of running right into it…" Engineer asked lazily, grinning widely, watching as the Heavy became increasingly desperate, shouting things in Russian that had the RED Medic and Heavy duo clutching their sides with laughter. More easy pickings for the BLU Sniper, but they just joined the Demoman to the back of the entrance to RED fort, watching the Scout run out to heckle the Heavy mercilessly.

The Soldier about blew it, about to scream at the Spy for being a failure and a pansy, but the Spy managed to backstab the BLU Pyro who had come to see what precisely was tormenting the Heavy so. The sight of the Heavy's face as his teammate went down to what appeared to be his own bullets was enough to stop the American short. Next moment he was laughing, frozen where he stood, watching as the Heavy stared at the BLU Pyro with wide eyes and an open mouth, staring at the gun in his hands in horror. Soldier was then gibbed spectacularly by his BLU counterpart, but it had been worth it.

"Nope, don't know what will happen to the Spy if I do." Sniper answered finally after observing it all quietly. "Besides, there's no way I'm cutting this short." The grin that spread across his face was terrifying. Engineer rolled his eyes.

Heavy swung the Spy back and forth, being heckled mercilessly by his other teammates, especially since he seemed to have killed their Pyro. "I do not understand!" He finally shouted out, releasing the trigger, only to find out that, for some reason, 'Sasha' would not quit firing. The Spy had apparently done some more work.

"Oh boy, here's where things get interesting…" Engineer grinned, leaning forward a bit more, the Sniper keeping an eye on his opposite on the other side. Fortunately, the other Australian seemed to be too engrossed in what was happening down below him to bother taking shots at anyone as what he was seeing registered.

Heavy shook 'Sasha,' finally pivoting, looking around in horror as his teammates backed away from him, shouting at him to watch where he was pointing that thing. The RED Pyro took that moment to run around, taking the opportunity being invulnerable to the BLU Heavy's bullets gave him, setting them on fire gleefully. The BLU Spy managed to get up close, about to ask something, when the RED Spy struck again, lashing out with his butterfly knife and stabbing deep into his leg, which was the only part he could reach. BLU went down with a scream of pain, the RED Spy snapping out and stabbing into his skull as soon as he got the chance.

"Oh, _that_ hurt…" Sniper grinned. Medic, Heavy, Soldier, Pyro, Scout, and Demoman finally joined them on the deck, watching the chaos, laughing as the enemy team scrambled to do something, anything when they finally left respawn. It wouldn't have been so bad, but the BLU Heavy was refusing to drop 'Sasha,' likely considering it to be too cruel to do to something he loved more than life itself. Spy waved at them whenever he was facing their direction. They waved back, grins on their faces.

"Man, I feel like I need popcorn or something. This is great!" Scout laughed, watching as the BLU team continued trying to get the Heavy to drop his gun, adding their own bullets to the fray as things turned more frustrating. The RED Heavy pointed, laughing hysterically, calling out taunts and insults in Russian that the Medic was all too happy to laugh at.

Finally the Spy quit whatever it was he had been doing, the BLU team slowly inching their way towards the Heavy, mouths pulled into frowns. It was then that they finally heard the Announcer's voice, past the sound of their own screaming, and minigun fire.

"_Fools, what are you doing? You are supposed to be capturing intelligence! What is happening down there?" _Her voice sounded worse than it usually did, having likely been screaming into the microphone for a while, trying to catch their attention.

"Think that's your cue, Snipes…" Engineer spoke, sliding off of his dispenser, watching as the Sniper aimed towards the Heavy, but before he could even draw the string back, something else happened that made him fumble his bow.

"That is it, I have had it!" The high pitched, female, and completely unfamiliar Russian accented voice broke through the various yelled explanations aimed towards the Announcer from the BLU's. In that one moment, everything was silent, both teams looking around for the cause. At least, until the RED Engineer made a strangled noise, pointing towards the Spy, his mouth moving, unable to form words. The realization struck home to the rest of his team just as the voice called out again.

"I am sick and tired of this! Shoot at that, shoot at this, well you know what, I do not want to shoot!" The irritated, slightly prissy, snarling voice came out of the RED Spy to perfect effect, the whole of the BLU team staring down at the 'gun' with wide eyed, shell-shocked expressions.

"_Did…did that gun just talk?"_ The Announcer's voice sounded as confused as the BLU team looked. The RED Team was too busy being uncertain if this was really happening.

The BLU Scout moved closer, bat held out shakily, finally jabbing him in the side. The look on his face when he realized nothing had happened to the gun he could see was priceless, shortly joined by the rest of them. "What the hell was that for, you grungy little urchin? Do you get your kicks out of hitting innocent women with baseball bats? Your mother would be ashamed!" For the RED Team's entertainment, the Spy was motioning. He shook his finger in front of his face in a scolding motion, both his hands finally finding their spot on his hips, where he tilted his head just enough for the effect to get across, but not change his weight.

Sniper made a sound that was between a chuckle and choking on something. The rest of them were trying to decide whether to laugh or cry, especially once the Scout jolted back, his bat dropped as he wrung his hands in front of him. When he actually responded, it was almost too much. "I'm…I'm sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean to, I didn't know…"

The RED Spy watched as the BLU Heavy finally looked down at him, aiming the supposed barrel of the gun towards his own face, blinking in confusion. "Sasha?" He asked, blinking wide eyes.

"And you! You are the worst of all of them!" He snapped, Heavy jumping slightly, looking torn between dropping his gun and clutching it close. "I don't think I have ever met anyone as ridiculously obese as you. Look at you, you are a whale! Heck, I'd believe that you _ate_ a whale, probably all by yourself. You are going to die of a heart attack, and then where will I be?" He gave a loud, highly exaggerated sniff, his next words nearly drowned in sobs. "You'll leave me cold and lonely, lying there on the floor with no one to pick me up and make me sing." Spy put his hands to his face, pretending to sob loudly, the BLU Heavy's eyes widening, blue eyes filling with tears of his own.

The RED team were nearly spazzing, trying their best to smother their laughter with their hands, tears of mirth leaking down their faces as they shook.

"Sasha…Sasha, Heavy…Heavy is sorry…" His voice was quiet; the BLU team gathered around him uncharacteristically solemn, weapons lowered in a mixture of confusion and outright shock.

"'Sorry?' You think 'sorry' cuts it? I have worked with you, fought with you, I have been there through thick and thin, and you think you can just say sorry and everything will be better? Ha! I have never been more insulted. I see now how much you truly care about me. I have given everything for you, and here you are believing that the smallest of gestures will make a difference; well I'll have you know that it is not so! What will saying sorry do? Will it stop you having that fatal heart attack? Will it keep me in use?"

"No, no, Sasha, I am sorry, I promise, I will do anything, I would never let you go! I will protect you and care for you, always! I can change, Sasha, I swear!" Heavy was crying, stroking his gun with one hand, the Spy showing how much he was loving that particular aspect by making a very clear 'gag me with a rusty spoon' gesture. The RED Scout had begun making a high pitched keening noise, his eyes red with tears of mirth as his hands were pressed flush to his mouth, desperately trying to choke down his laughter.

"Change? Really now? Can you stop eating those 'Sandviches' you love so much? Everyone knows you love them more than me. I never hear you making those noises when you use me!" Sniper choked, Scout fell over backwards, Engineer felt his eye twitch, and Soldier and Demoman leaned against each other, desperately trying to keep the other from laughing, the bottle of Scrumpy in Demoman's hand dumping onto the floor. The Medic had begun pounding on the Heavy's shoulder, his face pressed into his sleeve as the German tried to smother his laughter, the Heavy himself leaning forward, hands pressed to his knees as he laughed silently, wiping his eyes of their tears, mouthing: 'this slaps me on the knee,' happily. Pyro was on the floor, clutching his middle, muffled laughter escaping in-between wheezes, too quiet to be heard by the BLU team looking around awkwardly as though they were witnessing some sort of lovers' spat.

"No! I do not love the sandviches more than you! I could never! They are delicious and filling, this is true, but nothing could fill my heart more than the sound you make as you destroy puny RED team!" Heavy shouted out, hugging 'Sasha' to his chest, the Spy careful to keep his form as still as possible, even as a single hand tugged at his collar in a 'can't breathe' motion. They could have held it longer if the Spy hadn't also held that same hand to his nose a moment later. Sniper choked again, Engineer's hardhatted head thunking onto the railing, the Scout peering over the railing just in time to realize what he was doing and slump back down with a further squeak. "I could never leave you, never!"

"You are a liar, you hate me, you want to see me alone, and cold, left alone to gather dust, you know you do!" He cried out, that strange Russian accented voice cracking miserably. Engineer was now thunking his head against the railing at a steady interval, a strangled noise escaping from the Sniper's throat as he shook the Engineer's shoulder, shaking his head helplessly.

"No!" Heavy shook him, Spy actively doing his best to keep his arms inside his jacket sleeves. "I will always love you; I will never let you go! What do you want from me? Do you want me to polish you more, do you…do you want me to stop eating Sandviches?" The last bit of his sentence was almost a whisper, almost horrified at the thought. "Please, what do you want from me, what can I get for you? What can I do?"

"Well…" All hints of teariness vanished from his voice, the whole of the RED team leaning forward immediately, wide grins on their faces, ready for whatever the hell would spew from his mouth. "Firstly, you stink something awful, and this was before the match even started! Take a shower after every match, or at least after every other match. Deodorant is also your friend. Also, go on a diet. Yes, a diet, you are much too fat, you are going to die of a heart attack, and then where will I be? Also, please refrain from sucking your thumb when you sleep, it is most unbecoming." Heavy turned red, his own team starting to chuckle at this point, desperately trying to hide it, and failing miserably.

"But…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you a _little baby man_ who can't help but suck his thumb?" That voice was practically crowing by that point, and whatever control his team may have had evaporated. One moment Engineer had been slumped against the railing, eyes tightly shut and rolling his hardhat back and forth as he shook his head limply; next he was guffawing, hand pounding against it, and shoulders shaking. The rest of them were practically dying, Soldier and Demoman slumped against the wall as they howled. Heavy had started to do something of a victory dance, the Medic going along with him. Scout and Pyro were rolling along the floor, dying of laughter. The thing that made it sweeter was the fact that the BLU team had finally burst out into full-fledged laughter.

"You know what I think? I think you taunt everyone about their size because where it counts…you're very _small_…" Heavy's lower lip was trembling, even as they cackled harder.

"Sasha, why are you saying this to me, do you not know that I love you?" He asked, his voice breaking.

"Oh, I am quite aware of the fact that you love Sasha, but…to be quite honest, I doubt you love me." Both teams held their breath at this point, the other BLU's quite certain they knew what was coming next, not even caring, way too amused to bother.

"…What?" Heavy asked, looking down at his gun once again, tilting it's head up to look at him.

"Bonjour!" Spy shouted out in his usual voice, flicking the disguise off, the mask removed with a flourish, a wide grin practically splitting his face in two as he waved cheerily. Heavy gasped, about to react violently, when an arrow was suddenly sticking out from the hand holding the Spy's collar, the Sniper managing to gain enough control to shoot him, before he fell back into hysterical laughter. The Frenchman's collar was dropped, leading to him immediately making a mad scramble towards the spot where the rest of his team was waiting. Unfortunately he was forced to leave his pants in the grasp of the Heavy as that hand hadn't let go. The Russian looked down at them with wide-eyed incredulity, finally tossing them to the side and charging after the Spy, screaming out threats and obscenities.

The Frenchman didn't stop, his teammates shouts of encouragement ringing across the base, even the BLU team shouting at him to move, and move quickly, a few token attempts to shoot him being made, the Spy making a hard dodge to the left when the Heavy dove at him. He made it in record time, the RED Heavy leaning down slightly; just enough to grab hold of the Spy's gloved hand as he made a running leap towards them, being swung up to safety. He stumbled over the railing, landing on his face, panting heavily, their laughter echoing as they dove behind cover, cackling too hard to care about the BLU's below them. Luckily, to a point, the BLU's were too amused to care about their intelligence, laughing fit to burst. The fact that the gates had shut, apparently without the Announcer's permission as she started to screech in anger at that fact, also helped keep them safe.

Engineer propped the Spy against the Dispenser, watching as he pressed his back against it, heaving a lungful of air in before huffing it out in a sigh, curling his legs up to his chest, completely uncaring of the fact he was just in his underwear. Surprisingly enough they were boxers, although it was possible he had expected something like this to happen as they were obviously recently laundered.

Medic immediately set to examining him for bullet wounds, chuckling periodically, the original attack having led to a few close calls that they could see. Spy had a wide grin on his mouth, flicking his cigarette case open, and frowning slightly at the sight of all the tainted cigarettes in it. Sniper, Soldier, and Demoman all offered him one, grinning to beat the band, all three of them chuckling quietly. Spy put all three in his mouth uncaringly.

It was the moment when the Pyro offered his flamethrower, aiming it towards the ceiling that the Spy truly hesitated, blinking. Finally, slowly, gingerly, he leaned forward, lighting them calmly on that single flickering flame, before leaning back again, nodding his head in thanks, inhaling the nicotine almost desperately.

"Like I said before, a man's wife for three days. I can handle a gun." He grinned at the Scout, whose face was flushed as red as his team shirt, panting for breath. He collapsed into hilarity again at that moment, gasping for breath, the rest of them following after. BLU team was still cackling. For some reason, the Announcer was remaining oddly silent.

"Give me Sasha back, or I will kill you, and kill you, and kill you! You come down and fight like man!" The BLU Heavy shouted, the Spy smirked before shaking his head, turning his attention to the Australian.

"Sniper, I need for you to tell me when the BLU Spy has left…"

The man straightened just enough, peering over the edge to take a quick headcount.

"I think he's already left, mate." Sniper answered, leading to the Spy straightening automatically, frowning.

"Merde…" He hissed, blue eyes flashing something like fear.

"What's the big deal?" Scout asked, heaving for breath, pushing himself off the floor.

"He's gone to contact Saxton Hale." In that one instant the rest of them felt that same fear flash down their spines, their eyes widening.

"What? Oh shit, what are we going to do man, what are we going to do?" Scout yelled out, cutting through the BLU team's mirth almost immediately.

"What's going on up there, lads?" The BLU Demo shouted out, peering up at where they would be. The RED Spy hesitated for a moment before sighing.

"If I stand up will you shoot at me?" He called out.

"Yes!" Soldier and Heavy shouted out, they were both promptly hit by the others on their team. Soldier grumbled before answering, "No…"

Spy shakily stood up, leaning forward across the railing. "We have a bit of a problem, mes amis…"

"Oh yeah? Like what? Aside from the fact that we've got your pants…" The BLU Scout and Sniper held them up between them casually, grinning. Sniper held a glass jar filled with a yellow liquid, one that Spy knew well. He jerked forward slightly, mouth twisting into a snarl.

"Don't you dare you…you…" He restrained himself, glaring at both of them. "You know what? Fine, do whatever the hell you want to them, I don't care. They're pants." Both teams stared at him in awe, wide-eyed, mouths dropping open, and then the Spy continued, an evil little grin spreading across his face. "But I warn you, if you do not simply hand them up to me I will let you deal with the man whose coming."

"Oh yeah, who would that be, wanker?" The BLU Sniper spat, his fingers adjusting their hold on the jarate.

"Saxton Hale, your wonderful Spy went to fetch him." The Frenchman was grinning as wide as he could at that moment, teeth gleaming, and eyes glinting death.

The reaction was immediate. One moment the Sniper had been fully prepared to remove the lid from the jarate, the next he had dropped it to the ground. He yanked the pants from the Scout and wadded them into a ball, chucking them up to the RED Spy who pulled them on calmly, frowning at the sight of the wrinkles covering them.

"Merci, jarman. Now, listen closely. I am going to talk to him. While I do so you must _say nothing_. This goes double for my team. This can go one of two ways. Either he will listen to what I am saying, or he will rip my heart out, shove it down my throat, and then proceed to do the same thing with the rest of you. However, I believe I have something that might persuade him to do otherwise. Several something's if I am to be perfectly honest." Spy frowned at them, watching as they all looked at each other, talking amongst themselves, the BLU's Soldier consistently calling out derogatory names at the top of his lungs whenever he could get a word in edgewise, the Heavy equally violently vocal. Finally they looked up at him.

"Alright, temporary truce called on accounts of an even meaner mother-hubbard that none of us wants to deal with coming." The BLU Engineer was the one to speak up, the RED Spy nodding his head at him with a grin before dropping down onto the ground amongst them. Heavy glared at him, seething, Spy blinking up at him innocently.

"What? I only spoke the truth! You _will_ die of a heart attack." The Russian accented female voice was back, this time both teams could see the gestures, as well as the Spy's mouth moving, the sound coming from it in stark contrast to all that they knew. He placed his hands on his hips, swinging them to the side and tilting his head as he leaned towards him pointedly. Both teams burst into hysterical laughter. Aside from the BLU Heavy, he began chasing him around teufort, the RED Spy laughing his own snorting cackle with glee. "Yes, that's it; run, fat man, run, maybe then you will actually lose a few pounds!"

It was then that they heard it, both teams moving into defensive modes, the BLU Spy returning with a nasty grin on his face. An airplane. The space teufort inhabited was an air traffic free zone, unless that man was involved… Both teams looked at the BLU Spy with anger on their faces.

"You called that crazy-" The BLU Engineer started, getting himself all fired up for a nice shouting match, when the RED Spy put his hand on his shoulder carefully. He was ready for the wrench that swung towards him, ducking under it, leading to an apologetic smile from the Engineer as he backed away a step.

"Careful, mon ami, you recall what I said about not talking? That includes right now." Spy frowned, walking a short distance away from them, looking up into the sky. It was then that they saw him, jumping out of the plane a few kilometers lower than was really safe. A parachute was deployed, a voice bellowing out in an Australian accent that they could have sworn shook the very earth they were standing on.

"Saxton HAAAAAALLLLE!" Spy felt his heart plummet into his stomach at the sound, the rest of the teams dropping into terrified shaking. He then just took it as making it just a little bit harder for Hale to rip his heart out of his chest cavity and remained standing as straight as he possibly could, every muscle tensed for either fight or flight. A moment later and the Australian landed. He rolled forward, coming to stop in front of the Spy with his hands on his short-short clad hips, his hat loaded with the teeth from his previous kills, his heavy boots stomping down together in a perfect ten point landing. His face was in a frown, large brown mustache twitching down at the corners. Even as the parachute finally fluttered to the ground behind him, fanning out elegantly.

"Spy! You sneaky, twisted little hippy! Your Mann Co products not good enough for you?" Saxton shouted, spraying the Frenchman with saliva.

"Monsieur Hale, ce n'est pas parce…" Spy had lost control of his tongue somewhere between the sight of the Australian's blue eyes staring down into his own, the fist held open inches in front of his chest, and the boot planted heavily on his own shoe.

"ENGLISH, HIPPY, I SPEAK ENGLISH, NOT WHATEVER NAMBY-PAMBY LANGUAGE YOU SPEW OUT!" He ground his foot down just a touch, the Spy immediately leaning back. "You are lucky that I was requested to listen to whatever the hell you had to say, so speak! Keep in mind that if isn't what I want to hear, I'm ripping your heart out…" His voice lowered to a growl, which strangely enough was the one moment when the Spy straightened back up.

"Excuse me; I lost my tongue for a moment. To be honest I had been hoping to speak to you personally for a while." The RED Team blinked, looking at each other, shrugging at the implied question of had any of them heard of that wish. Saxton narrowed his eyes.

"Well?"

"You naturally see that BLU Spy over there, yes?"

Hale looked over to him, the other Frenchman giving a brief wave of his hand. "Yeah. What about him? Only thing I see is another soft-handed hippy."

The Spy frowned, his eyes narrowing. "First and foremost, neither of us are hippies. We are mercenaries. With that said, he is a spy."

Saxton raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah. I'd say so, got the uniform and the gadgets. Which he does not see fit to tamper with!" More spit flew as he shouted at him, leaning further into his face. Spy held his ground.

"Oh no, you misunderstand me. He is not just a Spy in this war; he is a spy for another company." Both teams jolted at this, Saxton backing up just a touch, surprise blatant on his face.

"A spy? For what company?"

"A new company. One who is very interested in Mann Co products. One who wishes to…buy your company out, or rather, offer the same merchandise for a lower price, making you irrelevant. In order to do this, he has been sneaking various products to this other company. Sometimes even intelligence itself." The BLU Spy had crossed his arms, his look defiant, a raised eyebrow screaming 'prove it.' Saxton obviously had the same thing in mind, his eyes narrowing.

"Prove it, _mercenary_." The sarcasm dripped off that word, his disdain obvious, even as the Spy calmly reached into an inside pocket of his jacket. Both teams tensed, wondering what precisely he was planning. A series of photos held in front of him gave them their answer. The BLU team stared at their Spy, expressions somewhere between baffled and horrified. He crossed his arms, his expression black, daring them to comment. "Well…isn't that something…"

"I believe that the plans for the disguise kit have already been given, isn't that right?" The RED Spy smiled at the BLU one, Saxton turning his blue eyes to him with narrow-eyed intensity. "I do apologize for not going to you directly. I had no proof until recently. I also did not wish to bother you unless I had a solution. Sir, I believe I have your solution." He flicked his disguise kit open, handing it over to the heavily muscled and bare-chested Australian who looked down at it with a frown. Saxton's chest puffed out in what the Spy figured was suppressed violence, his Australia shaped chest-hair something the Spy was finding it very difficult not to look at, if only due to complete and total bafflement that such a thing would and could exist. It was then that he remembered the camera-beard however, and dismissed it fully. He probably shaved it to look like that. The man was certainly tacky enough to do it.

"Why are all the durry's red, mate?" Saxton asked.

"Ah, well…that's the only problem with it. It requires the blood of the one you are attempting to turn into, as such it was scrapped as a project. Your development team deemed it too risky." Spy cleared his throat, scratching at the back of his balaclava with a frown.

Saxton's eyes widened, looking at the cigarettes with narrow-eyed scrutiny. The Spy felt cold sweat trickle down his neck, watching that scrutiny, and for the first time actively feeling uncertain this would work. The BLU Spy had been held by his team, bracing him and refusing to let him escape, knowing better than to let anything get in the way of Saxton's revenge, if he so chose. The BLU Spy held his head up high, something in his eyes reflecting regret, his mouth in a tight line, none of his teammates making eye contact with him.

Blue beady eyes flashed up to the Spy's in a snap, his mouth in a tight frown. Spy felt his blood freeze, and then, he was laughing. A large hand clapped down on the Spy's back, shaking him with a wide smile. "Inhaling the blood of your enemies, I love it! It's ingenious! And you say it can turn into actual people as well as equipment, and my development team did not see fit to inform me of this?"

"Well, I have yet to see about turning into things like dispensers and sentries, if the Engineer would not mind sharing how precisely they work… And…no, they apparently did not…" He left the sentence hanging, waiting for the response that followed.

"Hell, you want to learn, I'll teach you!" The RED Engineer shouted out.

"Aw heck, do you really have to educate a Spy?" The BLU Engineer asked his counterpart, the RED Engineer grinned at him with a shrug.

"If I have to deal with it, then so do you, Tex," the RED Engineer answered, smirking at him.

"Dang it…" He sighed.

Saxton nodded his head once in decision. "Alright. We have a deal, Frenchie. Mann Co thanks you for your patronage. I'll be getting myself a new development team I think, bunch of hippies, thought I wouldn't notice…" With a wide smile he snagged the other man's hand for a very vigorous handshake.

"Merci." The Spy nodded once and then quietly cleared his throat. "Would you mind getting off of my foot now? I think it's gone numb." The Australian blinked before looking down, almost looking surprised at the fact that he still had the Frenchman's foot trapped. He immediately removed it, laughing before clapping the Spy on the back hard, this time sending him staggering forward. Saxton didn't notice, turning to look at the other Spy immediately afterward, his eyes narrowed.

"Now, as for you…I'm going to give you a twenty second head start, and you are going to run. If you don't run I'm only going to make you hurt more, so I suggest you humor me. Get going." Saxton watched as the Spy was released, blue eyes meeting blue for a moment before the BLU Spy vanished, his team waiting silently, listening to the fence creak before he fled into the wilderness outside of teufort.

Twenty seconds later, Saxton charged, his cry of, "Saxton HAAAAAAAALLLLE!" echoing out behind him, making even the ones he wasn't focused on flinch. Both teams looked at each other after that, unsure what they would do now that the teams were no longer evenly matched.

The RED Spy turned back to his own team, walking up to them with a smile on his face. "Well. I believe that actually went well, mes amis, what do you think?"

"I think you deserve a medal," Soldier stated, a wide grin spreading out from underneath his helmet, saluting him proudly. The tension cracked at that point, further laughter finally spilling out from them, some of them sinking to the ground out of simple relief that it wasn't them Saxton was angry at. In the beginning it hadn't looked all that good for any of them.

"Were you really planning on talking to him?" Sniper called out from his spot on the balcony, having hidden up there with the rest of the RED team, wanting to avoid any confrontation that may have happened.

"Oui, naturally." Spy crossed his arms, tilting his head up just enough to look at them with a raised eyebrow.

"Why didn't you just do that to begin with?"

"As I had said, I was not willing to bring his attention to something when I had no proof that was what he was doing. Also, I was not interested in doing so when I did not have a solution. And lastly, from what I recall, my team was practically begging me to do something to relieve their boredom, and I do not wish to be accused of not being a team player, oui?" Spy smirked at them, listening to the quiet chuckles before the Engineer remembered something.

"He did take your disguise kit you know…" Engineer stated, rubbing under his orange hardhat.

"Oui, I know. I'll get it back eventually." He nodded once, looking at the speakers in anticipation. Sure enough the raspy voice of the Announcer echoed over the base.

"_Due to recent events, a mandatory ceasefire has been enacted. Missions will begin again as soon as both teams are balanced." _

The BLU Heavy frowned, pointing at the RED Spy with a glower. "Where is Sasha?"

"Sasha? I do not know of any Sasha, who is this Sasha of whom you speak?" Spy asked, blinking at him innocently, with a roar, Heavy attacked, the Announcer's groan ignored. Both teams watched the Spy evade the Heavy until the sun went down, grins on their faces and chuckles bursting forth at some of the more colorful insults the Spy hurled. He would vanish for periods of time where he would secretly sit beside his own team, smoking a cigarette that was provided by either the Demoman, the Sniper, or the Soldier, and lit by the team Pyro.

They were finally forced to return back to base, chuckling quietly, saluting the RED Spy as they went. He watched it all happen with a smirk on his face, the Sniper's cigarette of choice dangling from his lips. They were used to going to bed without him, along with the Pyro, the two of them often chose to shower alone, the Pyro having beaten the Spy out of the right to go after the rest of the team. Finally, the Spy went about his business, but instead of going to bed, the Spy exited the base, leaving the teufort boundaries silently as a shadow slipping into the night. A helicopter was waiting for him a mile out of base, two black-suited men standing ready to accompany him.

The Spy slid onto his seat, strapping himself in, and lighting a cigarette, a faint smile curling the edges of his mouth. He knew precisely where he was going and to be honest, he truly couldn't wait.


	5. Chapter 5

_Warning: This chapter contains very high probability of mood-whiplash. Explanation for why this sudden change has been made can be found at the bottom._

...

The RED Spy leaned against the wall, watching as the BLU Spy was hit again in the gut, blood splattering to the floor from his lips. He still had enough spite in him to spit blood on his tormenter's suit. To a Spy, it was one of the most grievous insults one could give. It was a little too bad that it didn't show up so well on black, which was the color of his captor's uniform. Another woman waited with the RED Spy, watching quietly, a cigarette in her own mouth to copy the one in his. She was an older woman, wrinkles etched into her skin, a single white stripe of hair cutting through black, her purple dress-suit pressed and wrinkle free. She was watching with a frown of disinterest as yet another hit connected with flesh, this time accompanied by the crack of a rib breaking and a cry of pain.

His hands were held above his head, clasped in chains, his gadgets had been stripped of him, and he certainly now had blood on his suit. Saxton had done a number on him before the Administrator had managed to retrieve him. She was not one to let her toys get away so easily, especially when she knew the truth of the matter.

"Such a shame really, Didier Blanc, you had such promise. Of all of the spies we have had…" She sighed, smoke rising from her nostrils, her head shaking lightly, letting the thought trail off.

"'Spies?' There are no other spies, you know it, I know it, he knows it. I do not know why you continue to use this ruse, even when you told us otherwise personally," Didier snarled, spitting blood at her feet, his blue eyes flashing death. The Administrator smiled coldly.

"Actually, there have been several spies; you're the…tenth one of your class I believe. Granted, I have found that the BLU ones all have the same problem. I suppose that's what you get for splitting a personality in two. One of them has to be the noble half." She removed her cigarette, holding it between two fingers as she tapped the ashes off the end with one long, bony finger, her eyes rolling, even as she gave him a smirk. Blanc's eyes widened, realization flashing through him like a lightning bolt.

"You lied." His voice was quiet, blood dribbling down his chin, from his lip, from his nose, staining his balaclava purple. She made a disgusted noise, giving a violent hand motion to the side, rolling her eyes.

"I lie all the time," she finally huffed out, frowning deeply. He frowned at her, even as she sighed. "I'd call myself disappointed in you, but I know better by now. You've never been one to handle the truth well. You react the same way every time. It's almost…boring." She blew a cloud of smoke out then, frowning.

"I attempted to involve a rival company before?" Didier asked with a raised eyebrow, even in his current state still able to sneer at her. He received a crushing blow to the stomach again, more blood splattering to the floor, even as he coughed, glaring over to the man standing next to him. "Must you consistently do that? It's almost getting boring. Try something else for once, or is your tiny brain unable to think of other ways of inflicting pain?"

"Unfortunately, competent hired help is hard to find. But I suppose that's why I have you, isn't it?" She turned her head to look at the RED Spy standing next to her, a smirk on her face. The Spy's butterfly knife came out, flipping it open calmly, twirling it through his fingers, a savage grin curling his mouth. Didier smirked at him.

"So, I see you are an even bigger laquais than I thought. Does she consistently make you do her dirty work for her?" He asked, his eyebrow rising.

"Only if she knows I will enjoy it," Spy answered, shrugging.

"And I believe that is the main difference between the two of you. Give him the proper motivation and he would kill his own mother. You…you seem to find it difficult to not try and work to save a bunch of Mercenaries." She laughed at that, grinning at him. "What precisely do you think mercenaries have to offer anybody?"

"They have more to offer than you do, Helen." He spat. When she frowned, her fingers tightening into fists, and eyes flashing death, he smirked, and finally started laughing. He laughed as the knife cut away at his flesh, as his blood seeped around him, staining his suit purple, and pooling on the floor. Finally managing to look the other in the eye, his breath catching in his throat as he spoke quietly.

"Vous êtes indignes pour être appelés l'espion. Si vous étiez un vrai Espion, vous auriez détruit sa régime. Vous sauriez qu'elle ne pouvait pas continuer." Didier smiled at him, the look contemptuous, his face nearly white underneath the red staining him so darkly.

"Si vous étiez un meilleur espion vous ne seriez pas devenus attrapés. Je crois que je suis celui qui sait vraiment comment casser un régime. Vous devez aller pour le coeur, pas une influence extérieure. Dans ce cas-là, après la vieille sorcière qui dirige des choses." The Spy brought his knife up again, examining the blade calmly.

"Vous...vous essayez de la détruire?" His expression remained cold, but there was a light in his eyes hidden under the blackness of death.

"Toujours."

"Enough. Spy, kill him. I'll see you shortly Didier Blanc." She smiled at him, blinking when a wide and truly friendly smile was sent her way from the man hanging there weakly, his chin tilting up to bare his throat.

"Didier Blanc is not my name. It never was my name." At her look of shock he laughed. "Seems as though you don't know me as well as you thought you did, Madame." The knife drew across his throat, and the BLU Spy was no more.

The RED Spy backed away from the corpse dangling limply, frowning down at his outfit. "He got blood on my suit."

"What did he say?" Helen asked, looking at him in boredom, ignoring his comment.

"Merely told me that if I was as good of a Spy as I was supposed to be I would have destroyed your rule years ago."

"And what did you tell him?" She asked, taking a quiet puff from her cigarette, blowing the smoke out lazily.

"That I'm always trying to destroy it." Helen raised an eyebrow at him, the both of them finally cracking up into laughter.

"Priceless." She smirked. "Give them hope just before they die. I love it. Which leads into the next line of business, I believe we might need to get rid of the rest of them as well…" Helen spoke quietly, drawing his attention with a frown.

"But I had just…"

"No, you were a bit freer with your tongue than you should have been. You know it, I know it. You aren't supposed to talk to them. It gives them ideas."

"Wait, before you get angry at me, it was not my fault. Teufort is an exercise in boredom at the best of times, if I had not had some communication with someone my head might have exploded. It just so happened that everyone wished to discuss my disguise kit. I do apologize for that." He frowned, walking after her as she called for her assistant, a mousey brown-haired woman wearing glasses, and clutching a clipboard, a plain outfit clothing her. They walked down the halls towards one room in particular, shoes clicking on tiles. A room that the RED Spy was seeing more and more as time wore on.

"And I suppose you were just as surprised as I was to see the BLU Team and the RED acting like old friends?" Helen sneered, the Spy bowing his head slightly.

"Unfortunately you are correct. They're getting closer than I had anticipated. I suppose we really can't have them talking." He frowned, recalling that particular display earlier in the day.

"You didn't help. You're often too fond of spectacle. Your control over certain elements of the base has also been repealed." Spy nearly froze, looking at her with an expression of shock that shortly twisted to acceptance.

"Yes, I suppose I am…although…I believe it might be best to change the rule regarding friendships among the teams at least." Spy watched as her eyes flashed over towards his, narrowing slightly.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, her expression daring him to say anything. The Spy continued anyway, unwilling to let such a challenge go unmet.

"I say that for the simple reason that there is no other possible reaction to fighting and dying together. For the teams at least you should make an exception. You will be killing them off more than you will be getting any use out of them should you continue to be paranoid of them simply talking, hell, you already are killing them off more than you had originally planned." Spy took a cigarette from his case, Saxton Hale having been requested to give it back. The cigarettes in them were plain. They had found the company that was attempting to shut down Mann Co and destroyed them. There were times when owning the world had its perks. It had been a bit harder to convince Saxton to not immediately fire all his development team and explain why precisely a device that used blood in order to function properly was a bad idea. Spy was just glad that someone else had been sent to do so.

Helen frowned, looking towards Miss Pauling, who matched her gaze and finally gave a timid nod of her head. "It is true, miss…studies have reported that such an environment leads towards deep bonds of friendship forming. As they are also not able to leave some of these bases due to them being almost completely cut off from civilization, they have little else to do but talk to each other, unless you give them a longer break."

Helen sighed, the smoke she had inhaled flowing from her nose, frowning deeply. "I don't like it."

"No, but if you wish I can seek to make certain their conversations are focused elsewhere." Spy raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she considered. Finally she gave a sharp nod. "Also…you may have luck with implanting a similar technology to the one you use here. If their thoughts run too close you can easily work on fixing it. Change their thoughts if they put two and two together, you know…mind games."

"So be it. Friendships will be allowed on the teams, it shall be put in their contracts. You will see to it that nothing is found out by those that have no right to know. We shall think of an excuse to have you involved with both teams more than you usually would be." Helen frowned at him, watching as he nodded, a snarling smile curling up his mouth.

"Of course."

They turned down a hallway, stopping in the middle of it, hemmed in by two doors. She moved a brick to the side, pushing a series of buttons before the wall rose into the ceiling, revealing a hidden room. Workers filed after them, waiting silently along the walls. The place they entered was high-ceilinged, their attention a single machine right in front of them. It was white, an almost cancerous monstrosity that expanded from the floor, wires connecting it to the ceiling. It had seventeen pods built into it. One of them was already occupied. Helen walked up to the single panel in the middle of the room, sighing quietly. "They had been doing so well."

"It had to end at some point." Spy shrugged, watching as she pressed a few buttons. He knew that inside both bases back at teufort, lungs would be stilling, hearts would be stopping, bodies shutting down as she killed each and every one of them with a single push of a button. She frowned, looking up at the white pods in front of them, watching as, one by one, bodies were formed inside them. Some bodies clad in red, some clad in blue. Workers came forward immediately, taking them from the pods, moving them each to specific chambers where they would then wake up, remembering nothing of their battles, remembering nothing of RED and BLU.

The Administrator left the room, Miss Pauling, and her Spy trailing in her wake, sitting down behind her desk as she entered her office, steepling her fingers in front of her, waiting for when the BLU Spy would be taken to her. "What did his name mean?"

"Pardon?" Spy asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"His name. What did it mean?" She asked, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

"Didier…Didier means either desired, or yearned for…Blanc is rather obviously white. It's very possible his name was a reference to yearning for a clean slate, a new chance at life perhaps." Spy shrugged. "I do not know."

"It's amusing if you think of it. He's given a clean slate every time he's put through that machine. So are the rest of them. But for some reason he consistently does the same thing…" She frowned, drumming her long fingernails against her desk quietly.

"I believe the solution to that is in fact rather simple. Simply tell him the same thing about himself that you tell everyone else, they are not cloned. You won't have to worry about him feeling obliged to alert them to their predicament. Tell him the usual spiel, there are other groups of RED and BLU mercenaries fighting each other. All those newspapers, those protests, they are all focused on them. They are merely…another cog in the machine as it were." The Spy took a drag on his own cigarette, leaning against the white wall, tapping his foot against the tiles.

Helen frowned slightly before smiling, "Perfect."

"I live to serve." He nodded once, a smirk curling his mouth around his cigarette.

"I do have to ask, why do you not find it necessary to tell them? If it's something that lies so close to his heart, why do you not feel the drive to do same thing?" Helen asked quietly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"It's like you said, I would kill my own mother if given the proper motivation. Watching these men scramble around like they do, knowing the futility of it…" Smoke curled from his nose in streams as he sighed, a smile spreading across his face. "I derive endless amusement from it. I'd derive even more amusement out of it if you moved us from teufort." Spy frowned at her, Helen shaking her head with an even deeper frown.

"You will be spending the entire time allotted to that location." Helen dismissed him, taking a drag from the cigarette in her fingers. Spy opened his mouth to argue, registered the look she was giving him, and sullenly closed it, replacing his own cigarette with a huff.

It was then that the BLU Spy entered, eyes flashing from point to point subtly, his body held stiff as he attempted to not show his nervousness. His eyes alighted on the RED Spy almost immediately, his stiffness increasing.

Helen ground her cigarette out on the crystal ashtray in front of her, drawing his attention. He looked at the woman in front of him carefully, watching as she lit another cigarette calmly, smoke rising from her mouth as she exhaled. "Welcome to the BLU team. You are to be a Spy for me as well as your own team. I am certain you have read your contract?"

"Oui, I am to be working alongside a RED?" He asked.

"Yes. He is the _only_ member of the RED team you are allowed to associate with and only in my presence. Doing otherwise may lead to your termination. You are constantly watched in all bases. Do _not_ think of double crossing me. You will not survive."

"Understood."

The RED Spy walked forward then, holding his hand out calmly. "Bonjour, mon ami. We shall be working quite closely together in the future."

"Yes, your first job will actually begin relatively shortly. I have a few things to discuss with you first. But I also have one question. What is your name?" Helen leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at him darkly

The Spy blinked before grinning at her calmly. "Boden Roux." His name rolled off his tongue smoothly, the RED Spy raising an eyebrow as he heard it, eyes narrowing slightly at him in consideration. The BLU Spy accepted the hand offered to him by the RED Spy, returning the sly smile he was given as the other dismissed whatever warning signs had flared in his brain.

"Call me Red, I shall call you Blue. Names have no purpose here." Red stated calmly with a shrug. "She will of course know your name, but it is not for the rest of us to say. This also goes for the men on your team. You shall be simply known as the Spy to them, or other variations and possible nicknames. Even so, I believe you shall find your work very…rewarding."

It was not long before the BLU Spy was briefed and told to join the rest of his team, secrets weighing heavily on his shoulders, secrets he did not feel inclined to share.

A while later the RED Team entered, looking around her office, locking eyes on the RED Spy waiting for them. He came around to stand in front of them, smirking smugly at familiar faces, faces that looked at him as though they had never seen him before. In a way, they really hadn't. Spy inclined his head to them, the eight other mercenaries acknowledging him in their own way.

"Gentlemen, this is your Spy. He is a transfer from another Mercenary unit. He is here to make certain your introduction to the bases and their rules goes smoothly. You have any questions you direct them to him, if he is unable to answer, you direct them to me. Your mission will begin at teufort. You will be boarding a RED train in twenty minutes." She took a drag from her cigarette, holding it for just a moment before releasing the smoke from her mouth and nose. "Any questions?" Silence answered her, the members of the team looking at each other as though asking each other if they had any questions. She smiled, the look twisted, the mercenaries shifting under her gaze nervously.

"Excellent."

...

_And, that's it. First TF2 story, first instance of sequel-bait I think I've ever written... Why? Originally I had wanted to work on a story with a darker and more serious tone, but as I thought about it I realized it might be best to see about easing into the section as gently as possible. Hence, a rather silly fanfic that would have been the first straight up comedy I have ever written. That obviously didn't work out all that well...my typical style came out in full-force at the end there. I apologize. To be quite honest this wasn't the original plan, but the muse guided, and I sort of followed. But yes, there will be a sequel, and no, it is unlikely to be as strictly comedic as the last one, and yes, I will throw in my typical brand of humor when I can. I do apologize for the sudden change of style, but...that's sort of what happened. I hope you enjoy it anyway._


	6. Alternatively

_Well, ladies and gents, since it was requested, here's an ending without the darkness and angst that seeped into the other one. I repeat that I have no idea how the hell that happened, but since it did there's nothing to do but move forward...and...produce an ending that has none of the original angst. Why my muse wouldn't let me write this the first time I don't know. But whatever. Enjoy.  
><em>

...

The BLU Sniper was the first one to see him return, popping his akubra up slightly as he leaned against his van, watching with a raised eyebrow as the Spy tugged a torn and dirtied sleeve back up his shoulder in vain, silhouetted by the afternoon sun. The rest of the RED Spy's jacket was in a shamble, as was most of his outfit, he also looked like he had been rolled in dirt. Ceasefire was still in effect, so the Sniper merely waved, grinning widely. "What's wrong, piker? Can't handle being outside of an area that doesn't have indoor plumbing for just one night? What'd you do anyway, jump off the side of a cliff?"

Spy frowned, stalked over to him and pressed a single finger into his chest, the Sniper grinning at him condescendingly. "You, sir are one of the most uncultured, unhygienic, unprofessional, impolite barbarians I have ever met. You are also idiotic, ugly, and you smell like you rolled in manure. Also, since you were kind enough to ask, no, I did not jump off the side of a cliff, I was pushed." With that he stalked off, the Sniper blinking as what precisely he had said registered in his brain. Next moment a glass jar had been hurled towards the Spy's retreating back, the Sniper always keeping one on hand just for moments like this.

The Sniper's almost unnaturally good aim led to the jar breaking onto the Spy's back, drenching him in a yellow liquid that the Spy knew quite well, if not dreaded with every fibre of his being. The Spy had frozen mid-step, his right eye twitching, and mouth clenched tightly shut. The RED Engineer and Sniper had seen him coming, the Engineer apparently having finally managed to bully the RED Sniper into looking at his van. The both of them froze, mouths open, and hands raised to wave in greeting as what they were seeing registered.

The Spy felt the sun-warmed liquid trickle down his shirt, the smell rising from his already dirt-covered, and sweat-soaked body meeting new heights of disgusting. The BLU Sniper's laughter rang in his ears, and the Spy's icy-blue eyes narrowed in fury. Next moment he had whipped around and those blue eyes were staring into the Sniper's aviators with the kind of look that would make a lesser man drop dead. It was then that the nastiest grin the BLU Sniper had ever seen curled his mouth. Before the Sniper quite knew what was happening, the RED Spy had walked back over to him, removed his sodden jacket, whirled it around a few times in his hands, and promptly wrung it out over the top of the Sniper's head.

The RED Sniper and Engineer burst out laughing at the sight of the BLU Snipers expression, somewhere between shocked, disgusted, and about to blow a gasket. Next moment the Australian had clocked the Frenchman in the jaw, and it was then that a full-on fistfight broke out. The other Sniper looked to the Engineer standing next to him, eyebrow rising slightly. "So, willing to make a small wager, mate?"

"What kind of wager, Slim?" Engineer asked, watching as the Spy tackled the taller man, the akubra and sunglasses flying off of him due to a violent blow to the nose that left him bleeding. The Sniper's mouth was pulled into a snarl; the Spy's teeth were clenched to the point of nearly breaking as he attempted to pummel the other man.

"Who's gonna wind up knocking the other's teeth out first." Sniper answered, the BLU Sniper finally managing to kick the Spy off of him. The Spy only took that opportunity to roll back onto his feet and start kicking him in the side before the other man could get up.

"Filthy jarman! Impolite, disgusting, ogre!" The Spy's foot was finally caught, the Sniper yanking him off his feet and straddling his stomach, fist pounding into the other's face.

"Bloody piker! Always sneaking up on a guy when his back's turned!" The slew of fragmented insults continued, both of them attempting to beat the other black and blue.

"I don't know, I honestly don't think the Spy's someone who would go for the teeth… Although, to be honest, I never pictured him as someone who would go in for an all out fistfight either, I didn't think he had it in him." Engineer grinned; watching as the Spy finally managed to flip the Sniper over, maroon balaclava crusty with the blood from his split lip and punched the Australian's face repeatedly.

"Looked like he had been put through the wringer before he got here, truckie, he was out all night and most of the day. I think the jarate just shoved him over the metaphorical edge." Sniper flashed his teeth in something like a smirk. "Honestly, I'm glad it did. I haven't ever seen him this far out of sorts. It's bloody hysterical."

Spy was shoved backwards, landing sprawled on his back, the Sniper kicking him as he was down, cackling viciously, until the Spy managed to sink his teeth into the Sniper's leg. Down he went again, crying out in pain. Spy spat blood to the side violently, returning to his efforts of attempting to hit every last inch of him he could reach.

"Now _that_ was just fighting dirty." Engineer smirked.

"So you think that the Spy won't be able to get that Aussie's teeth out?" Sniper asked, indicating him.

"Nah, doesn't seem like his style." Engineer finally answered, watching as the two of them eventually regressed to rolling over and over, attempting to pin the other, flailing wildly as they hit and spat insults at each other. "Although, I didn't honestly think that biting someone was his style either. I'm learning a lot about the Spy today, I guess."

"Reckon you're right about that, mate. But I still think that going for the teeth is still a bit far out there. Besides, it's bushman's rules to go for the teeth. Notice how much blood Spy's spitting out? That Aussie's definitely been going for the teeth." Sniper nodded his head once, raising an eyebrow when a particularly violent curse spewed forth from the Spy's lips, soon changing to a rapid-fire stream of multilingual curses.

"What is happening?" The Russian accented voice of the Heavy asked, coming to a stop next to the two of them.

"Well, that BLU Sniper and our Spy are having a bit of a dispute. I'm not really sure who's winning… Not all that sure it matters…" Engineer grinned, "Too damn amusing whatever way you look at it."

"Got that right." Sniper smirked. Heavy crossed his arms over his chest, his lips pursing thoughtfully.

"Not bad technique," Heavy finally stated, an eyebrow rising in consideration.

"Really? Looks to me like they're both flailing, what do you mean by that?" Sniper asked.

"Watch little Spy, he is going to win." Heavy nodded his head once in a decisive manner, a grin spreading across his face.

"You think so? I was thinking-" Engineer stopped, his mouth dropping open as the Spy managed to somehow yank the Sniper backwards, slam his elbow into the man's teeth, and as the Aussie reeled back, bring his forehead down onto the Sniper's viciously, and finally slam that head back onto the ground. The Australian didn't move and the Spy finally stood up, panting heavily, tugging at his outfit fruitlessly in an effort to look more presentable. He had a large tear in the side of his balaclava, his hand automatically going up to the site and pressing against it, unwilling for even the slightest amount of skin to be seen. The RED Sniper hurried over to the scene, looking down at his fallen counterpart.

A frown tugging at his mouth, the Australian crouched down next to the man sprawled on the ground, before a single finger tugged at the unconscious man's mouth, baring his teeth. His eyes widened and he barked out a laugh. "Spy! You know what you did?" He asked, immediately looking around on the ground to find the object of his interest.

"What? I swear I'm not in the mood for any of your…odd Australian quirks…" Spy grumbled backing away from the nearly frantically searching Sniper, before the man gave out a triumphant cry, holding something aloft. A moment later and the Frenchman found his other hand grasped, spread out, and a bloody canine tooth pressed into his gloved palm. The Spy about fell over backwards in his effort to shake the Sniper's hand off his wrist, toss the aforementioned tooth, and yell in disgust.

Sniper laughed at him. "Relax, will you? It's just a tooth. You knocked it clean out! Got the root out and everything, just look at that beauty!"

"So?" Spy finally managed to snap, his other hand still pressing his balaclava together as his mouth pulled into a frown.

"Bushman's rules, mate. I told you about them, right?" Sniper smirked at him, his eyes reflecting absolute amusement, waiting for the reaction he knew was coming.

"Yes, knock your kill's teeth out and…no!" The realization struck, complete with wide eyes and a disgusted expression. "I do not want to make a necklace out of his teeth! I don't even want to make a necklace out of just one tooth! I am not a bushman, what…what..." Spy stared at him in something like horror; his mouth pulled into a frown of disgust, apparently struck dumb with absolute incomprehension as he shook his head mutely.

"Aw, come on, mate." Sniper grinned at him easily, the look somewhere between cajoling, and teasing.

"Is this some sort of irritating effort to let me know that you think of me as part of the team, or an effort to disgust me as much as physically possible?" Spy asked finally, frowning at him. Sniper rolled his eyes upwards thoughtfully, mouth pulling into a considering grimace before grinning at him.

"Disgust you as much as physically possible." Spy huffed, removed the hand covering his face long enough to yank the Sniper's hat down over his eyes, and in the moment when the Sniper was yelling about not breaking his sunglasses and had released him, walked away. Engineer tipped his hardhat at him.

"Well, even if Stretch's too much of an ass to tell you, I think you're definitely part of the team. No one gets to put on a performance like that and not get some credit." He chuckled, the Spy taking a moment to bow.

"Why thank you, Laborer, at least some people in this base know a good thing when they see it." His voice was as sarcastic as possible, but he did grace him with a small, albeit real smile. They finally continued into the base, giving the Spy a wide berth, both to avoid the smell coming off of him, and to respect the man's larger than normal personal space. He had left his urine-soaked jacket on the Sniper as something of a final insult. They honestly were kind of upset they wouldn't get to see his reaction. They entered the base, the RED Spy visibly relaxing as soon as they entered the shade.

"What happened to little Spy, where have you been?" Heavy finally asked, the other two immediately paying attention. There were things that the team mutually agreed upon in regards of how to get along together as a group. You didn't touch the Scout's 'Bonk!' or the Heavy's Sandviches, you left the doves in the medical bay alone, you didn't make loud noises or run in the Engineer's garage, you left the Demoman alone when he was melancholy, and you never, _never_ asked the Spy where he had been. The Frenchman was often disappearing outside the base for various reasons, often on the weekends or when a ceasefire was called, if only temporary. No one was quite sure why, and most of the time they never asked. Asking about his tools and weapons? He'd give you round-about answers and mock you, but he would at least be semi-polite about it. His whereabouts?

The Spy turned to regard him, blue eyes flashing death, and they saw just how tired he looked, even as he tensed right back up. He slowly drew up to his full height, blue ringed eyes glaring, prompting the Heavy to straighten and remind him just how small he really was. Just as slowly he shrank back, frowning. "None of your business."

"No? Why?" He asked, watching as the Spy seemed to shrink even more.

"Because…" The Spy sighed, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly, and then smiled. "I got my disguise kit back. Is it possible that I could leave it like that and you will take it as an answer?"

They frowned, looked at each other, and then comprehension dawned. "Holy shit, you went to confront Saxton?"

"No, that was not my original intention, but…lo and behold, our wonderful Announcer decided it was my fault, and so I must be the one to ask the benevolent Saxton Hale if I could get my disguise kit back. I also had to explain to him why precisely using a disguise kit that works on blood is a bad idea. This involved a rather wonderful talk on various diseases transmitted by blood. This, naturally, ended in him giving me my disguise kit back, and then shoving me off a cliff." They snorted with laughter, the Spy crossing his arms, glaring, even as the three of them cackled.

"Hold on a moment there, how precisely did you survive getting tossed off a cliff?" Engineer asked, the minor technical issue ringing alarm bells in his mind, even as he struggled to stop laughing long enough to ask.

"…It was a small cliff…" Spy looked to the ground, mouth pursing slightly as he cleared his throat, listening to their laughter. "I also used this." He held up what looked to be a gold pocket watch, his lips spreading into a grin at their immediate interest.

"That little doohickey? What's it do? Looks like a regular watch to me…" Engineer mumbled, leaning towards it. Spy smirked, removing it from his line of vision, tucking it back into the pocket it had come from.

"You will see in the next match, as soon as the BLU team gets a new Spy, which shouldn't be that long, knowing the Announcer's ability to find people willing to fight for her." The Spy smirked before frowning. "What was it I wanted to do… Oh, yes, Heavy." The Spy reached into his vest pocket, flicking the disguise kit inside it open. "Voila, for you." He held out the drawing of Sasha, smirking. Heavy gasped, his mouth stretching into a wide smile, taking it in his hands happily and pressing it to his chest in a fit of glee. The Spy rolled his eyes. "Glad you like it, now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me…" Before he could get any further, the Heavy reached out, pulling him close in a back-breaking hug that led to the Spy grunting as his back cracked, his eyes bulging, even as he began kicking futilely in an effort to get away.

"I love this Spy!" Heavy shouted out, the Engineer and Sniper cackling with laughter at the way the Spy desperately tried to gain some composure. The hand that had been working so desperately on trying to keep his mask sealed, even with everything else he had been doing, slipped off, regressed to pounding desperately on the man's back in an effort to get him to let go.

"Alright, alright! Thank you, I'm glad tu aime il, now please, put me down!" He was dropped, the Heavy grinning at him, patting him on the head and walking away, the drawing clutched safely in his hand.

"Doctor! Come look at what Spy gave me!" He shouted out as he walked down the hallway, likely towards the Medic himself. Spy grumbled, ignoring the two men laughing at him, and walked away, not bothering to adjust his outfit anymore, and letting it practically sag off of him. He was too tired to care anymore. But he was not too tired to turn in without a shower. He'd sleep the rest of the day away, he had nothing to do, so, naturally, it seemed like the perfect plan.

What he hadn't been expecting was the sight of the Pyro about to walk into the bathroom. Spy let out a groan, almost immediately turning around to leave, not willing to fight for this on top of everything else. He was stopped by a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"Whaihbt. Yhou caun gho," Pyro muffled, giving him a thumbs up and a nod. "Yhou lhouk lhiyke yhou nheid ib."

Spy blinked, frowning at him. "Merci. I think." Pyro patted him on the back and left, the Spy taking the invitation, and enjoying a rather long shower in peace. He changed into a new dress-shirt and pants, along with the other essentials, walking back to his room, his torn up and beaten uniform having been discarded, his tools transferred. A fresh balaclava covered his face, a fact he was most glad for when the Scout ran up to him suddenly.

"Hey, man, just wanted to say that what you did was cool. And…if you have a list of stuff you don't want me doing in your presence…" Scout cleared his throat, kicking at the ground, the Spy blinking before frowning down at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I promised, didn't I? I said if you could make Heavy think you were Sasha I'd stop annoying you for a week." Scout answered, straightening up fully, crossing his arms defiantly.

Spy stared at him with wide eyes. "I didn't think you meant it."

"What? You don't think I keep my promises? You don't think my mother raised me up right? What's wrong with you? The BLU Scout's mom's good enough for you, but mine's trailer trash? I thought you were cool, man!" He shoved at him, the Spy immediately working on back peddling, his hands waving in front of him.

"No, no, Scout, listen to me. I apologize; I had not meant to slight your mother, or her methods in raising you. And am I right in gathering you want me to date your mother?" Spy raised an eyebrow, watching as the Scout both tensed up and relaxed at once, finally settling for crossing his arms and frowning.

"No. But it would be better you than that BLU Spy. Not that he really can, since you kind of taught that dumb bastard whose boss, right?" He smirked, rubbing under his nose with his thumb before blinking in surprise. "Wait, you apologized? What's the world coming to?" Scout laughed.

"I know, shocking. However, I do not believe bringing a man's mother into anything is a bon thing to do. In fact I find it rather deplorable, that was not my intention in the least. So I do apologize if that was the way your brain chose to interpret it." Spy smiled at him, a look that turned sneaky when the Scout nodded his head in acceptance.

"Alright, we're cool. So, what don't you want me to do around you for the next week?" Scout asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Spy sighed. "At the moment, I'd love to give you the full list, but I do not quite feel up to it at this point in time. Would you consider taking a rain-check on it?"

"Okay, no big deal. Go get some rest, man, you look beat." Scout patted him on the back before starting to jog off. "Good job yesterday!" Scout shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway.

"Merci," Spy stated belatedly and finally walked away, wondering what strange version of the Twilight Zone he had wandered into. It was then that he managed to walk into an obviously drunken conversation between the Soldier and the Demoman. The both of them leaned against the wall and talked amongst themselves, and whatever hope he had for a peaceful nap was dashed when the both of them looked at him and grinned.

"Spy! You loveable bugger, you! Come over here, we got something for you!" The Demoman shouted out, the Frenchman unable to do much but comply, walking over to him with his shoulders hunched.

"Frenchie, it is not normally something I would do, your cowardly methods of fighting are nothing but a disgrace, but yesterday you went above and beyond the call of duty. Both in your sabotage of the BLU team and your treatment of Saxton Hale, for this reason, and this reason only, I grant to you this here medal." Soldier pulled the Spy close enough to pin it to his chest, the Frenchman balking at the stench of alcohol emanating from the two of them, as well as the prick to his chest from the sharp end of the pin. "Congratulations, soldier!" The American saluted him, the Demoman patted him on the back heavily, and the Frenchman gave a clumsy bow in return, escaping before things could get any weirder.

As he walked away he took a moment to examine the medal currently decorating his chest. Silver with gold trim, rather intricate, it honestly wasn't that bad, until he managed to remove it and get a closer look. It was then that he realized it was an old bottle cap from a Scrumpy bottle and whatever initial feelings of gratefulness vanished. How ridiculously tacky.

"Ah, Spy!" The German accented voice made the Spy freeze, looking at him in something like horror as he watched the incoming Medic walk up to him, waving his hand in greeting. "I have been looking everywhere for you! Where have you been?"

"Around," Spy answered evasively, his eyes shifting, unwilling to explain it a second time.

"It does not matter anyway, just so long as you take this." Medic waved it away before holding out three pills. They were large gel capsules, and filled with an odd green liquid that the Spy didn't like at all.

"What are they?" Spy asked, exceedingly hesitant to put anything in his body when he didn't know what they were. Especially when the person offering was the Medic.

"Ah, well, you are currently on a very steady path towards lung cancer. These will prevent such a thing from occurring as well as let you keep smoking at the rate you are currently." Medic smiled at him, the Spy's expression changing from annoyed to downright shocked.

"What?" Spy finally managed to ask, blinking wide eyes at him. Medic's smile turned more tolerable.

"I had known for a while, to be honest, I believe it might be best to take them now rather than later, if you will come with me when you do it? The first two are to cough out the tar currently encased in your lungs, as well as heal any damage; the third will coat them in something a bit like an ÜberCharge field, only it won't be temporary and you can smoke as much as you like. It is highly unpleasant at first, as you are quite literally hacking your lungs up, and it will require supervision, so if you will come with me?" Medic asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

Spy stared at him, mouth opening and closing in something like horror, unable to form words as what he was hearing registered. "Why did you not give me these before?"

"Ah, well…I had been rather interested in seeing the effects first-hand. You will forgive me my curiosity, your case was going to be a particularly bad one, and it was going to be interesting to see how your body reacted." Medic responded cheerfully, the Spy not even daring to comment.

"And…you have the cure to cancer, and you have not given it out to people? Or patented it, or anything at all?" Spy finally managed to ask.

Medic scoffed. "Not the cure to cancer, the cure to _lung_ cancer. Also, who precisely do you believe deserves to have such a thing? Smoking is a filthy habit, all those people doing their best to clog up everyone else's lungs, all because they are too selfish to simply not smoke at the table." He frowned deeply. "However, yours serve a very nice purpose, one I would be remiss in letting go to waste, so bitte, follow me. We shall get this over with and then you may sleep. You look like you need it."

Overwhelmed, the Spy simply followed after the Medic, the sound of his brain breaking echoing in his ears.

An hour later a shaky, sweaty, and utterly drained Spy stumbled out of the medical bay, a trachea, an esophagus, and a pair of lungs feeling as though they had been dipped in acid. The Medic swore it was a normal response and would fade in time. He hoped so. Unfortunately, it rendered his original shower redundant, and the Spy was nothing if not clean. He shuffled his way back to the shared bathroom, uncaring of the fact that it was currently occupied by another showering individual. Judging by the grease and oil spreading from underneath that particular stall, it was the Engineer. Spy cleaned himself, wrapped his lower body in the towel he had hung over the stall door, and stepped out of the shower at roughly the same time the Texan did.

Blue eyes flashed towards him, intent on heading to the lockers that the Spy was currently focused on, before what he was seeing registered. The Texan blinked, frowning as he tried to place the face that he was seeing, and then the Engineer jolted, looking away immediately and turning to face the opposite wall. "Dammit, sorry, Spy, didn't know it was you! I'm sorry, son, I swear I didn't see anything much…" Engineer hitched his towel up a little as it had started to slip due to his quick movements.

Spy grumbled under his breath before finally sighing. "It's fine, Laborer, I believe I trust you not to tell." It was that simple sentence that made the Engineer cease in his efforts to get a covert look at the man's face stopped, the Texan grinning sheepishly, rubbing at his nose. It also made the Spy want to bash his head into the wall. Where the hell had that come from? He really needed to sleep.

"Well, shucks, Spook, I'm flattered." The Engineer kept looking at the wall, that grin still present on his mouth.

Spy grumbled. "So, how is your walking sentry coming along?" Spy asked finally, quietly, unable to take the quiet, or the fact that someone had seen him without his mask on, however briefly.

"Actually, I quit trying to make it work. Two explosions when I'm attempting to make something is nothing to sneeze at, and that last one was a particularly bad one. Besides, you were right when you said it would be a pain to deal with. Considering you would have to go around trying to sap this thing, I can honestly understand why you wouldn't want to deal with it." Engineer answered, scratching the back of his head. The Spy blinked, looking over his shoulder at him.

"Really?" The surprise in his voice was obvious and the Engineer frowned.

"Sure. Like I said, you are a part of this team, and you do serve a purpose, I wouldn't want to make it impossible for you to do your job." Engineer nodded, the Spy blinking in surprise, barely managing to catch his disguise kit as it slipped through his fingers.

"Well…thank you." Spy blinked, finally grasping at his balaclava, gathering everything up in his arms and stumbling out of the bathroom, his balaclava pulled over his head sloppily, moving to his room with nothing but a simple hope that everyone would leave him the hell alone.

The sight of a braided leather chord with a single canine tooth on it hanging from his doorknob almost made him burst into tears of frustration. He finally managed to force his hand to reach out and take it and stumble into his room. He took the time needed to lock it behind him, using the nineteen different locks running up its length, and turned around to look at the shadows and lack of personal effects that made up his inner sanctum. It was then that the Spy looked down at the medal and the necklace in his hand, frowning, wondering precisely what to do with them. He looked over at the garbage can in the corner of his room, frowning at it in consideration. Finally he let out a sigh and walked over to the corkboard on the wall, examining it tiredly before pinning the medal to it and hanging the necklace over it, looking exceedingly out of place among the papers of intel and maps that covered it. He then flopped back onto the standard issue bed, complete with rusty springs, and crawled under the flimsy blankets.

As Spy slowly drifted off he took a deep breath, feeling his lungs fill with something like amazement at the realization that it no longer hurt, nor felt constrained in any manner. It had been so long since simply breathing felt so good, that he took another deep breath simply because he could. He removed the balaclava and looked over to the corkboard, something like happiness filling up his chest as he closed his eyes and felt himself slowly sink into slumber.

It was then that he remembered he had an image to retain and promised himself he would tell the men who had given him them that he had thrown them in the garbage where they belonged. The looks on their faces would be priceless.


End file.
